The End, the Middle, the Beginning
by ClaudiaRain
Summary: One night changes everything, and proves that what happens in Vegas doesn't stay in Vegas.  Nate/Parker. Sophie/Eliot.
1. Chapter 1

**Title:** The End, the Middle, the Beginning

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Leverage or its characters and I make no profit from this. It's all for fun.

**Spoilers:** None, I think.

**Pairing:** Nate/Parker

**Summary:** A trip to Las Vegas changes everything. Nate/Parker

**Author's note:** It's been done. It's been done for every show, nearly every couple, and I had to do it for this one (but I'm fairly certain at least that it hasn't been done for N/P because I am fairly certain I am one of maybe four people in the world who writes them, and I've read everything else).

I am not looking to surprise anyone with the basic idea; I'm looking to explore what happens in the event of something like this.

Thanks to all consistent reviewers/readers (jojobevco, housefan87, zombienath, agenttofutti, AgainstTheEveningSky, Erin, Leverage3621), even the silent ones (you know who you are) and all the rest who drop by occasionally looking for something different. I know I am out of my mind to start posting another story when I'm not done with the last one. To all who care, rest assured that _both _will be finished!

**XXXXXX**

At a time like this, there was one rule that always came into Parker's head – not something to necessarily live by, but one to definitely keep in mind for situations like these.

No matter how bad a situation is, it can always, _always_ get worse.

Her first thought, upon waking (after recognition of the incredible pain hammering inside her head) was that she didn't know where she was.

Her second thought was that she certainly wasn't in her own room.

Her third was that she could probably slip out, because the room seemed empty on a quick glance.

The quick succession of those three thoughts ensured the day was starting off about five times worse than normal. She had no idea what was to come.

Parker shut her eyes and didn't want to open them again because she knew the pain would only magnify. "Am I dead? I must be dead. If I'm not, then I wish I were," she muttered. She took several deep breaths to try and stop the pounding. She hoped the night before was fun, because if it wasn't, this so wasn't worth it. Though, since she couldn't remember last night, perhaps it wasn't worth it either way.

She ventured a quick look around and registered she was in a bed in a room she didn't recognize. Very slowly bits and pieces came back. They were in Las Vegas (didn't everything happen in Vegas?) for some type of marketing convention, trying to infiltrate one of the largest advertising firms in the country. And last night…well that was completely blank. And from the way she felt, maybe that was for the best.

She laid there for a few moments, simply breathing quietly. Panic rose within her at a steady rate as she considered that anything might have happened last night – and with anyone. What if she was in some sociopath's hotel room? What if he was in the bathroom right now, sharpening his knives and waiting for her to wake up?

Not that she thought she couldn't take care of herself. She'd made sure of that a long time ago after some not so pleasant experiences.

Yes, she'd learned how to defend herself. But that didn't mean she'd learned how to turn off being afraid.

She decided the best course of action was to try and leave before whoever's room this was made an appearance. Thankfully, the bed was empty aside from herself. She threw the covers off and scanned the room more thoroughly. It was nice. Expensive. "What the hell happened?" She whispered, hoping the words might somehow jog her memory.

"Why don't you tell me?" Someone answered from behind her. No, not just someone. She knew that voice, and she told herself all she felt was shock simply to deny to herself that the first thought she'd had upon hearing his voice was relief (not a serial killer after all!) followed immediately by panic.

Because if she thought it was bad when she was in a stranger's hotel room, she had no damn_ idea _what the proper adjective was to describe learning that she was in Nate's room.

She turned very slowly, partly to delay the inevitable, and partly so that her head wouldn't explode. "Explain." She said, trying for her deadliest tone, though it came out more as a pathetic whisper, which made her wince, but only on the inside. He must have come from the bathroom because he handed her a glass of water and two aspirins.

"No, no," the look of bewilderment mixed with horror, anger, and concern on his face was, she suspected, equally mirrored on hers. "You tell me, because you are the one in _my _room."

Was that true? Well it wasn't her room and if it wasn't a stranger's it must be his. This room was much nicer than the one she had checked into 3 days before. Wait a minute.

"You booked yourself a suite and I got a single room?" She accused, but only to allow herself to forget for a moment what was most important.

"Stop focusing on the trivial," Nate winced as his voice rose and he rubbed his head, before continuing more calmly. "Let's put it another way. Do you remember anything from last night?"

She shrugged in response and thought about how truly awful this situation was becoming. Waking up in bed with someone, neither remembering the night before, and to have it be Nate of all people. Though she'd been happier to see him than she would a random stranger, it was worse in other ways. They had to work together and things could get awkward. Not that she wasn't used to dealing with strange or uncomfortable situations, but it bothered her on another level.

Nate was her friend, despite how hard she'd tried to prevent that from happening (with all of them, really). Before today, she'd been fairly sure that, barring all else, she at least had his respect. She did her job and did it well and she contributed to a good cause in a way she never had in her life before he pulled them all together. And she secretly – hidden from all others and most the time even from herself – loved him for that.

And now? What must he think of her now? Whatever standing she'd had in his eyes was gone as soon as he saw her this morning. She was sure of it.

She couldn't even look in his eyes, because she was sure what she would see. Disappointment for sure, disgust maybe, and most certainly regret, perhaps that he'd ever considered someone as unstable as her to work with his team.

But she couldn't afford to think of that now. She locked everything away, determined to get through this and out of the room before she could see anything that might confirm her fears. If she kept denying it – everything, the night before, today – maybe they could forget it and go back to how they were before. The way she was before. A precarious balance of doing the wrong things for the right reasons, with only Nathan Ford to steady her when she started to dangerously tip toward the old patterns of behavior that were so easy to fall into.

She knew as well as the rest of them that if it weren't for him, they'd all be working alone, doing what they did best for money, or pride, or to prove something to someone who probably didn't even exist.

It was cosmically hilarious that it took a night she didn't remember to realize in an instant that what she had with Nate and his team was no longer a way to keep amused or busy or polish her skills. It was how she stayed sane.

She would not give it up. Not without a hell of a fight.

"Parker?" Nate asked.

She shook herself out of her thoughts and absently realized something. She was still wearing clothes. And so was Nate for that matter.

"Nate, I'm still dressed," she said with immense relief. "That's good!"

"Parker, I hate to break this to you," Nate told her, quickly swallowing his own aspirin, "But while I'll grant that you _are _dressed, those are my clothes."

"No they're –" she glanced down. "Oh no. We're back to very bad."

He sat down on his side of the bed and they both looked anywhere but at each other. The tension between them grew higher, and tauter, until he broke it. "I've got nothing," he said. "The last thing I remember is gambling last night. By myself. I know you were all around, but I can't remember anything else."

"I remember playing blackjack," she offered, though that did nothing to help the situation. "Maybe the others can tell us. I hope. Or maybe I'd rather not know." She paused for a moment, sensing an opportunity to escape. "I think I'm gonna go."

"Yeah that'd probably be best." Nate said quickly. "Obviously we just had too much to drink and came up here and fell asleep. And that's absolutely it."

"Yes, exactly. And neither of us has to mention it or think of this ever again," she added, knowing already it was a lie.

"I like the sound of that," Nate agreed, with such enthusiasm that she felt it sting.

"I can't find my shoes, wouldn't I have worn some up here?" She said half to herself as she looked around in vain. Her overwhelming desire to flee soon overrode any concern she had about shoes she may or may not have been wearing. "I don't need them, I'll just go."

"Yeah, who needs shoes?" Nate agreed, and to his credit, his voice only faltered a little bit when he added, "I like…not wearing them."

Parker picked up her jacket and quickly checked the pockets, beyond thrilled when she found the keycard to her room. "I still have it! Great, think how awkward that would have been if I'd had to go down to reception…" she trailed off. "Yeah, bye."

She managed to get out of the suite (seriously, a bedroom, living room, and kitchenette?) without looking at Nate even once more.

And fate surely was not on her side today, because right as she pulled the door shut behind her, she turned around to find none other than Hardison.

"Hey, Parker, I didn't know you were on this floor." He smiled. "Was last night crazy or was last night _crazy_?"

"Crazy is not the right word," she muttered, then a bit louder, "I really don't remember."

"Trust me, you had fun." Hardison winked at her and dear God, what did he mean by _that_? "You're up early, though."

"It's 11," she tried to edge past him.

"Exactly," Hardison said. "I'm going to see Nate, want to tag along?"

"No!" She yelled without thinking.

"Sorry," he said, affronted, and then frowned, looking her up and down, "Are you wearing men's clothes?"

"No, these are my normal clothes. That I…always wear."

"Uh huh, hey I get it. Keep your secrets close, right? What happens in Vegas stays in Vegas, that's what the commercials tell me. A lady never kisses and tells." He couldn't have sounded more lascivious if he'd tried.

"You're an idiot," Parker informed him and stormed away. He shrugged and went back to scanning room numbers, searching for 4016. Except that was the one right in front of him. Which couldn't be right, because that was Parker's room. He pulled out the list Sophie had given to all of them and frowned when he saw 4016 next to Nate's name. According to the list, Parker's room was 18 floors down.

Either Sophie had mixed up the rooms or…suspicion dawned as he knocked on 4016. After a minute, Nate opened the door and Hardison simply stared, a comprehension dawning that he didn't want to accept.

"Can I help you?" Nate asked with impatience.

Hardison glanced down the hall where Parker had disappeared, then to Nate, then back to the hall. Had he imagined her? Maybe a ghost was haunting the hotel. A ghost who looked and sounded and acted like Parker. Alright, the scenario was unlikely, but he had to concede it was at least as unlikely as the fact that Parker had just left Nate's hotel room. Wearing men's clothes. And last night…

He almost didn't want to ask. But something made him. "Hey Nate, have a good night?" When Nate only stared at him blankly, Hardison decided he had to be a little more obvious. "Enjoy any…good company?"

He didn't know what he expected, but it wasn't the confusing flurry of emotions that crossed his friend's face. Guilt, sadness, worry? And ending on anger. The door slammed in his face before Hardison could attempt to speak again. He'd been wrong, it wasn't anger. It was fury.

**XXXXXX**

TBC - I'll never leave anything unfinished (though I'm afraid I've gone insane with having two unfinished stories going at the same time!) I welcome all feedback!


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer:** See chapter 1.

**Author's note: **Rest assured, I am working on Asylum, it will be updated soon.

As ever, my love goes to all reviewers. And to all who favorited this story or put it on alert, I love that too, because I love to know that people out there are reading this – well I know from the traffic page that people are reading this, but still, you know what I mean. =)

**XXXXXX**

"I'm telling you, he is not in a good mood. And Parker, for that matter, seems to be on the warpath. I would avoid talking to either one of them," Hardison took another bite of his scone.

"You're seeing things, Hardison." Eliot refused to accept any part of his crazy story. "We're supposed to believe the unbelievable because you went and got room numbers mixed up?"

"I'm telling you, she came out of his room!" Hardison insisted. Ever since he'd told them what he saw a half hour earlier, Sophie and Eliot had only been laughing at him and teasing him mercilessly.

"And I thought I had a lot to drink last night," Sophie said, amused. "But apparently, Hardison, you were _still _drunk this morning."

"Who was still drunk this morning?" Nate sat down at their table and Hardison quickly motioned for the others to be silent.

Of course he should have known they would purposely do the opposite of what he wanted.

"Hardison tells us you had a wild night," Eliot couldn't help but smirk. "With a certain blonde that we all know?"

Hardison remembered how Nate had looked in his hotel room earlier and prepared to hightail it out of there, except Nate turned to him just as he was about to see if his sprinting record from high school still held. "Hardison, you're not leaving this city alive."

He assessed the situation and decided that based on the weariness and resignation in Nate's voice, he was not in danger of losing his life – at least not immediately.

"I report the facts, man," Hardison said slowly. "Like any good journalist."

"You're not a journalist," Sophie reminded him.

"Tabloid journalist," Eliot clarified, before his voice became more stern. "Personally, I think it's despicable that you would tell us all intimate details about the personal lives of our friends and embarrass them like this."

"Thank you, Eliot," Nate said in surprise.

Parker entered the room right then, and though she'd seriously considered avoiding all of them at every cost until she absolutely couldn't do so anymore, she decided against it. She'd never run from anything that wasn't life-threatening, and she certainly wouldn't from this. Besides, hiding would only give them more ammunition. If she pretended like it didn't matter, then it wouldn't.

Or so she fervently hoped.

"Parker!" Eliot said loudly, once he spotted her approaching, "you spent the night with the boss, huh?"

Nate snapped to attention and affixed Eliot with a glare, debating the odds of coming out alive if he challenged him in a fight. He should have known Eliot's seeming sincerity was too good to be true.

Parker immediately turned to Nate who held up his hands in innocence and pointed to Hardison. "I should have known," she hissed to their computer expert, "I should not have let you leave that hallway alive."

Hardison marveled at the nearly identical threats from Nate and Parker. "Death threats from every direction, what is this, 'hate on the guy who tells the truth' day?"

Parker sat down with her plate, purposely choosing the empty seat next to Hardison (Nate sat on his other side, with Eliot and Sophie across the table) so that if he even looked at her the wrong way, she could inflict maximum physical pain. Not that she might not inflict that anyways.

"I think what we all need to do," Sophie said quickly to avert any more arguments, "is forget this trip ever happened."

"Yes!" Nate and Parker cried, almost simultaneously.

"What would be the fun in –" Hardison gasped in pain when Parker slammed her foot down hard on his. "I can live with that."

"Fine," Eliot reluctantly agreed, "but I reserve the right to bring this up in the future."

"No, you don't," Nate informed him.

"Besides, nothing happened," Parker said firmly. "Except we drank too much and fell asleep and that's the end of the entire situation. And no one better dare even _imply_ otherwise, or else you will pay…severely."

Hardison, despite his life-threatening proximity to Parker, couldn't resist raising his hand and saying loudly, "I am more than implying otherwise since I _saw _you come out of his room this morning!"

"I guess _someone _doesn't appreciate his current state of…what is it called? Oh yes, _living_!" Parker yelled, as Hardison flinched and leaned away so far that he was practically in Nate's lap.

"Don't shoot the messenger!" He pleaded.

"How dare you tell everyone where I spent last night," Parker seethed, "it's none of your business! And what if the _last _thing I want in the whole _world _is for everyone to know that I –"

"Wait a minute!" Nate cut in, as he shoved Hardison out of his personal space. He looked squarely at Parker for the first time since they'd woken up that morning. "I understand the awkwardness of the situation, but what is really _that _horrible about waking up in bed with me?" Nate asked with exasperation.

His question momentarily killed her desire to murder Hardison. "Um…you're Nate?" Parker asked, as if it were more than obvious, and Eliot and Hardison nodded in agreement. Did he really not see how bad this was, how bad it could be for both of them?

"Try to sound a bit less horrified," he mumbled, turning to stare intently back at the breakfast plate full of food he didn't want. "And consider it from my viewpoint, waking up with you is just as bad as you waking up with me."

"Please!" She went with anger to cover that small, lingering hurt she felt from this morning. "Waking up with me is a dream come true, you can ask many, _many_ men." She paused at their curious looks, before adding irritably, "You know what I meant."

"The good news," Nate said, changing the subject, "is we finished our reconnaissance for the trip and we are free to go home. I, for one, am looking forward to leaving this god awful place."

Hardison tapped his fork on his plate. "Speak for yourself, but I had a fantastic time here. The best being this morning – you may remember this, Parker – when I went up to Nate's room –" He abruptly shut up when she hit him in the back of the head.

Silence fell as Nate and Parker once more avoided each other's eyes, Hardison kept his mouth shut to avoid any more bruises from Parker, and Eliot mulled over how to use this situation to his advantage.

Sophie could take a lot of things, but she couldn't take unnatural silences, so it was she that finally broke it. "It's not a big deal. You two ended up in the same bed after a night of drinking, so what? It happens to all of us _all the time_."

"Really?" Eliot looked up with sharply renewed interest, "Remind me to drink with you more often."

"As if you could handle me!" Sophie said, smirking, in a tone that clearly implied she was flattered.

Nate abruptly stood. "I can't eat anything, I'm going to get more aspirin." He reached into his jacket pocket to make sure he had his keycard, when he found a folded up piece of paper. "What is this?" He quickly scanned it and decided that never again would he believe a situation was at its 'absolute worst' because that was just tempting fate. He fell back into his chair and stared at Parker, unable to articulate any of his thoughts.

"Nate?" Sophie asked, worried.

He was seemingly in a daze, as he spoke to no one in particular, except maybe the universe as a whole. "This is not good."

Eliot reached across the table and took the paper before Nate could react. "Oh man, Nate, you are dead."

"What is it!" Sophie demanded again, leaning over Eliot's shoulder to see what was on the mysterious paper.

Eliot cleared his throat solely to drag out the moment, which he was going to savor. "I'd like to take the honor of introducing to all of you…Mr. and Mrs. Nathan Ford."

Parker dropped her fork and grabbed the paper Eliot held out to her. "What did you do to me?" She screamed at Nate, loudly enough that the people at nearby tables glanced over to see what the commotion was about.

"I like how you assume this is automatically my fault. It takes two people to get married," he said angrily.

"What were you guys drinking last night? Because I definitely want to get some before we leave Vegas," Eliot said.

"Whoa, you two are married? Like, _real_ married?" Hardison asked.

"No, fake married," Nate said with agitation.

Hardison took the paper from Eliot and read it a half dozen times because he couldn't believe his eyes. Sure enough, it documented the apparently legal marriage between Nate and Parker.

"This is awful," Parker breathed, "I can't believe you forced me to marry you."

"What does that mean!" Nate snapped.

"Well, I obviously didn't do it of my own free will!" She told him.

"What happens in Vegas stays in Vegas!" Hardison laughed, "Except, you know, getting married."

"So Parker, does this make you Parker Ford, or was Parker your last name and now we'll just call you Ford?" Eliot asked, though she ignored him.

Nate turned to Parker. "Not to belabor the point, but what is _that _awful about ending up married to me? I'm a nice guy."

"Well yeah, but…you're _Nate_," she reminded him, and he was really beginning to take that 'reason' as an insult.

"There are plenty of worse guys you could have accidentally gotten married to."

"Name one," she challenged.

It took him all of 2 seconds. "Hardison!"

"I don't know, he's kind of funny," she said, even as Hardison protested to Nate that Parker should be so lucky as to have drunkenly married him in a night neither of them could remember.

"Eliot, then," Nate tried.

"What?" Eliot looked offended.

"But Eliot has that hot 'I can kill people with little effort' thing going on," Parker argued. Eliot smiled smugly.

Nate looked bewildered. "That's a _thing_?"

"Yes," Sophie and Parker answered quickly, in unison, as Sophie (quite unnecessarily in Nate's opinion) fanned herself with a napkin and glanced at Eliot, who merely winked at her.

Exasperated, Nate scanned the room. "Okay, that guy," he pointed to an elderly man with an oxygen tank.

"Ooh," Sophie said before Parker could answer Nate. "He's impeccably dressed. He's here in Vegas, so he must have money to burn. I'll bet when he dies, he could make you a rich widow. A _very _rich widow. Imagine." Sophie's gaze drifted off and Nate got the feeling she was imagining that scenario more for herself than for Parker. Besides, there was no way Parker –

"I've always wanted to be a rich widow!" Parker declared, interrupting Nate's thoughts.

"Make it happen," Sophie prompted, sipping her juice to hide her smile.

Parker appeared to be assessing the situation for a moment before she nodded and said, "I'm going to go introduce myself."

She moved to leave, but Nate grabbed her arm as she walked by. "You are not. Sit down!"

Parker glared at him, but let him push her into the seat next to his. "Ordering me around already. So _that's _the kind of husband you're going to be."

"I guess I have to remind you, Parker," Eliot spoke up, "but you can't marry the old guy with lots of money who'd be a _much _better husband than, Nate," he ignored Nate's furious glance. "Because you're already married! You can't get married twice."

"Now, I think in some cultures it's perfectly acceptable, even normal to –"

"Shut up, Hardison," Sophie threw half of her bagel at him. Eliot watched in appreciation, as he was apt to do whenever someone did something that annoyed Hardison.

Hardison caught it right before it could hit him in the head. "I'm gonna eat this to spite you," he said, picking up the cream cheese.

"You don't have to marry him," Sophie said thoughtfully. "Parker, you could just become his mistress. Have him shower you with gifts and money."

"Even better," Parker said. "Free stuff for doing nothing!"

"Well," Sophie cleared her throat. "You might have to do _some _things…" she said, letting Parker draw her own inferences.

Parker stared at her a moment before she got what the other woman was implying. "Wait, what? _No_!"

"Oh yes," Eliot said, laughing. "What'd you think, Parker, old men just paid their young, beautiful girlfriends to sit next to them at dinner?"

"They'd require much more," Sophie said. "Maybe if you're lucky, something fun." She glanced at Eliot, as if to ask his opinion. "Role-playing?"

Eliot nodded. "Possible. But kind of tame...what about hot fudge? Or whip cream?"

Sophie started laughing. "I always loved bringing food into the bedroom. What about restraints –"

"Do you two want a room?" Nate asked sharply, as Sophie and Eliot smirked and shared a glance.

"I'm never eating a sundae again," Hardison sulked.

Parker still looked horrified and Nate took the opportunity to renew his argument. "See, now you can't still think that he'd be a better husband than me. I'd never tie you up!"

"Oh my god," Sophie started laughing so hysterically that she nearly choked on her bagel. Eliot quickly handed her a glass of water and Hardison complained that he hadn't been updated on his CPR/Heimlich maneuver training in four years.

Parker ignored the three of them as she thought over Nate's question, glancing back at the elderly man again. "I don't know, I mean he's probably about to die, Nate," she said thoughtfully. "Whether he's rich or not, I wouldn't have to stay married very long. That alone makes him a better catch than you."

He crossed his arms, unamused. "I want a divorce."

"This is sad," Hardison said mournfully. "Not even 24 hours later and you're already in the half of all marriages that fail. Actually, Nate, this makes twice for you, doesn't it?"

"It makes three for me," Parker sighed. Everyone turned to her and she added, "Wait, are we talking about _legal _marriages?"

"What other kind is there?" Hardison asked, leaning forward with interest.

"You've been married twice before?" Sophie asked, already intrigued at the gossip and dying to pry for all details she could possibly get.

"I'm not really sure," Parker shrugged.

"Do you think you're already married _now_?" Nate asked, "Because if so, then this marriage isn't even legal!"

"Parker," Hardison said, "You gave me all your aliases a few years ago, remember? Those _were _all your aliases right? Because if so, then you are not legally married anywhere in the world."

"You looked _that _up?" Sophie asked.

"Of course!"

"Why?" Eliot chimed in.

"Because…for…business and tax reasons! Don't question me, people."

"Okay, then yes, this is my first legal marriage," Parker told Hardison.

"Oh man, it's so your last," Eliot said, starting to laugh. "You know, unless you get another guy drunk enough to marry you." Sophie elbowed him in the side in silent chastisement.

"What's _that _supposed to mean, Spencer?" Parker asked, as Eliot abruptly stopped laughing. She tried to lean around Nate to confront him, but Nate held her back.

"Let's focus on one problem at a time," he said warily.

"I'm the problem now?" Parker said, turning her anger toward him.

"No…" Nate said calmly, though he was becoming alarmed at her increasing sensitivity to the issue. "The situation we find ourselves in is the problem. Let's take care of that, and then you can kill Eliot. Deal?"

She met his eyes for a solid thirty seconds before relaxing and leaning back. "Deal."

"You could probably get an annulment," Sophie said quickly, intent on jumping in before either Eliot or Hardison could say something else idiotic to aggravate Parker. "I'm sure they do this all the time."

**XXXXXX**

"Do you know what I do every third day of the week?" Judge Caffrey asked them, voice devoid of any amusement.

"No," Nate said warily, but he was sure it wouldn't bode well for them. He and Parker exchanged glances.

"I get annulment requests from people like you, who come to Las Vegas and think this city is an excuse to abandon all judgment and all responsibilities. Get drunk, do stupid things, sometimes get married, but who cares? Because it's Las Vegas and there are no consequences in this city, right?"

"That's not what we think, Sir," Nate argued.

"I wish I had some popcorn," Hardison whispered to Eliot as they watched the proceedings with fascination.

"This is the best day of my life," Eliot laughed in agreement, as Sophie hissed at them both to be quiet.

Unfortunately, Parker felt she had to jump in. "Look, buddy, instead of complaining to us about your job," Parker ignored Nate's attempts to quiet her, "maybe you should just _do _it and save us all a lot of grief." She crossed her arms defiantly and nodded at Nate as if she'd just ensured the judge's cooperation. "Then after, if you still hate it so much, you can quit!"

Judge Caffrey stared at her with something between shock and anger. "I will not listen to that kind of disrespect in my courtroom. Frankly I'm sick of it. Sick of people like you who treat the entire institution of marriage _and _the Las Vegas court system as a joke. I should be handling real cases, not dealing with idiocy like this."

"You want to discuss idiocy? How about you go find a mirror –"

"I suggest," the Judge talked loudly over the rest of her insults, "that if you two want to leave this city without being charged with contempt, you control your wife, Mr. Ford."

"What?" Parker gasped, incredulous that he was treating her as if she weren't even there, but Nate gripped her arm tightly and something in his expression made her shut her mouth.

"Your Honor, I deeply apologize." Nate said gravely, not letting go of Parker for fear she might take that as an invitation to pick up where she left off. "We mean no disrespect and if you'd simply –"

"Petition denied," Judge Caffrey said, turning to the bailiff. "Next case? It better not be an annulment request."

"Wait!" Parker cried, wrenching herself from Nate's grasp. "You can't be serious, you're going to force me to stay married to _Nate_?"

She ignored the glare of her (God help her) husband, and the Judge turned his steely gaze to her. "I'm sure you can obtain an annulment or divorce from someone else, but you won't get one from me. I suggest you leave my courtroom immediately. And I further suggest that for your benefit, I don't hear one more word from you."

"Thank you, Judge," Nate pushed Parker ahead of him out of the courtroom simply because he was afraid she might try to attack the man if he didn't keep an eye on her.

Hardison gave them an exaggerated thumbs up as they all left the courtroom. He so was going to pay for this, even if she had to drive him out to the desert herself.

Once they were out in the lobby, Sophie shook her head. "Was that your plan? Antagonize a man who disliked you both even _before_ you set foot in the courtroom?"

"I guess Parker thought insulting him would be more effective than, I don't know, using reason?" Nate turned to Parker who was watching him with obvious annoyance.

"You can't be trying to blame _me _for this."

"You called him an idiot! Did you really think that would sway him in our favor?"

Parker couldn't really think of a response he would like, never mind accept. Truthfully, she hadn't been thinking. It was only anger she'd felt, at how unfair it was that one man could decide something so important. "Yeah, I'm mad, how come you aren't?"

"You don't need to have an outburst every time you get angry," Nate told her, and she felt as if he was scolding her like he would a wayward child.

She felt something strange, and she thought, for the briefest moment, it might be shame. She quickly banished that thought as impossible. But he had a point. He probably could have persuaded the judge into simply granting the request if she hadn't interrupted. Now she saw why he was so angry – with her – not at anyone else.

And she hated that that made her feel angry at herself for the first time, too.

"Personally I think Judge Caffrey is an honorable man, defending the sacred institution of marriage," Eliot told them, flinching when Parker took a menacing step toward him.

"We're going home," Nate told them. "We can deal with it then."

"Maybe you two should think about this before you do something drastic," Hardison said, "you two crazy kids could make it work."

Parker stalked off as Nate sighed, "Thanks, Hardison. And I have the seat next to her on the plane. Anyone want to trade?" This triggered a quick aversion of all eyes in the vicinity. "Right."

Sophie watched him walk away. "I'll always fondly remember my time in Vegas."

Hardison could no longer keep in his laughter, "So will they."

"Now, Eliot," Sophie began as she linked her arm with his. "I never knew you viewed marriage as such a serious institution..."

Hardison rolled his eyes as they walked off. He was stuck sitting alone on the way home again. He made a mental note to upgrade to first class so that he wouldn't have to listen to the rest of them arguing, which he was often sure they did just to annoy him.

**XXXXXX**

TBC – I'm sure it's pretty rare that judges don't grant annulment or divorce requests, but suspend your disbelief… I tried to give a realistic reason why that's the case here!

I'm having way too much fun with this one. Please let me know if you're all having fun reading, too.


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer:** See chapter 1.

**Author's note: **Eliot/Sophie was a last minute decision to add, but they just fit with this story. This chapter's a bit longer and the next ones won't be as long. But I could not cut it down. I just couldn't.

This chapter is dedicated to **Against the Evening Sky** whose much loved harassment caused me to post it sooner than I intended.

To **Leverage3621** - see what you make me do? You get me all sad and then I end up with scenes like the one at the end of this chapter!

**XXXXXX**

Parker pushed open the door of the small chapel. 'Complete Marriage Package starting at only $49!' the blazing red sign out front read. She had to see the place she'd been married before she left the city. It was only 2 blocks away from their hotel.

She'd found the ring while packing, tucked into the pocket of the sweater she must have been wearing the night before. It was silver with a row of five small fake diamonds, a typical, if slightly fancy wedding band. It cost $20 at the chapel where they'd been married.

The place was small and cozy, gaudy and somehow charming, and the woman at the counter had smiled broadly, must have remembered her, because she asked if she had a great wedding night.

Parker didn't bother telling her she didn't remember it, and scanned the rings available for purchase. She already knew hers was fake but after surveying the selection she had to admit she probably got the best one.

"Did you not like the ring?" The woman asked with concern. "I remember your husband picking it out but you weren't here at the time. He said he had to buy the most beautiful one. He seemed disappointed we don't carry real ones here. We used to, but not anymore – been robbed too many times, you know?" Parker glanced up. She'd known Nate must have gotten the ring for her, but picturing him doing that was another matter entirely.

The woman went on. "I told him where the higher end jewelry stores were in the area but he said he didn't have time to go there. Don't worry, honey, I could tell he only wanted the best for you. I'm sure he'll trade in the one he got you for a better one." The woman smiled reassuringly as Parker forced herself to breathe past the constriction in her throat.

She knew she'd never have someone truly feel such sentiment for her – not without the aid of intoxicants, anyhow.

"No, the one he got me is fine," she said quietly before entering the empty chapel. No weddings going on at the moment. She stood in the spot she must have the night before and shut her eyes.

Excitement, and terror – the knowledge they were doing something crazy and not caring either way. And laughter. More laughter than she could remember in a long time. Was it a portion of her memory, or was it a dream?

It disturbed her so much that she abruptly left the building, ignoring the well wishes the woman called after her as she left. She fingered the ring she had kept with her even after she changed clothes, now placed securely in the pocket of her khakis. She had intended to leave it behind, throw it in her suitcase or something, before she left, but then she hadn't. She had some sort of irrational fear someone could come into her room while she was out and steal it. Ridiculous, of course. Who would steal a $20 ring? And why would she care if they did?

The woman from the chapel didn't know. And Nate would certainly never know – as long as she had her way.

No one had ever cared enough to buy her anything of meaning before.

XXXXXX

Nate thanked whatever God was listening that the woman next to him on the plane was currently sleeping. Parker was a bad passenger on her best days, and it had taken her so long to fall asleep on this flight that he hoped she would be able to sleep for the rest of it.

It was not, he thought adamantly, because he didn't want to deal with her. Not at all.

Except he couldn't get it out of his head. This morning. Waking up to discover there was someone sleeping peacefully next to him. Not just anyone, but Parker.

The guilt, he couldn't get away from it. If he forgot for even a moment what had happened, the guilt inevitably came back seconds later, reminding him of what he'd done. He'd taken advantage of her. The one person on their team who he, for some reason, felt responsible for. Protective of, even.

The hell of it was, he knew she trusted him. At least before last night. And now he knew she never would again.

It wasn't an option, he _had _to make this better. He had to fix it. They could get an annulment and move past it but he feared it wouldn't be enough. What if she decided she wanted to move on? What if she came to the conclusion it wasn't worth it to stay with their team?

The fact was she would be perfectly fine on her own. Or she could easily join up with anyone else who was looking for a talented thief. She could disappear tomorrow and ensure no one ever found her, not even Hardison.

The thought terrified him more than he could put into words.

Which was why he had to somehow remedy what had happened last night. He would do whatever she demanded in order to fix it, because the alternative – losing her – was something he would never allow.

He was about to open his laptop to try and distract himself when Hardison suddenly popped up from the seats in front of them, like some kind of half-crazed jack-in-the-box. "Hey guys! Whatcha up to?" He asked loudly.

Predictably, this woke Parker abruptly, as she shrieked and kicked Hardison's chair on instinct.

"This is one more reason for me to kill you," Nate said. "As if I didn't have enough from this trip already," he added, putting his laptop away. He had a feeling he wouldn't be getting any work done now, not between a bored Hardison and a miserable Parker.

"Glad to see you're both awake," Hardison ignored Nate's threat and opened a bag of pretzels. "Your wife doesn't look too happy, Nate."

"That's because you just woke her up!" Nate said harshly, pressing his hands to his temples. "Can we help you with something?" Nate asked, forcing his voice to become calmer. Hardison didn't answer, simply leaned over the back of his seat, looking back and forth between them.

Parker felt awful, but that couldn't be helped now that she was awake again. "I didn't know you were in first class, Hardison," she said suspiciously.

"Funny story about that, guys. _Funny story_. See, I went to upgrade my ticket because I figured I could get away from all of you. Little did I know that you _all _had first class tickets and I was in coach. Coach! What's that about?"

Eliot, who had booked their tickets and was seated across the aisle from Hardison, coughed. "Four first class and one coach was all they had left."

Hardison didn't believe it, though in Eliot's defense, he hadn't even _tried _to make the lie sound believable.

Hardison turned back to Nate and Parker. "And where do they put me?" He gestured wildly around, as pretzels flew through the air haphazardly. "In front of the newlyweds! And next to – whatever the hell they are!" He pointed accusingly across the aisle where Sophie and Eliot sat, obviously annoying him with their mere presence.

"We're not doing anything over here," Sophie said, sounding bored, as she flipped through her fashion magazine. Eliot looked like he was trying to sleep.

Parker didn't see what this had to do with her - at all. "Turn around," she said, kicking his seat again and causing him to nearly choke on a pretzel.

"Harassment! Emotional abuse, just the fact that I have to be around so many _couples_," he shuddered as if it were an evil word. "This was supposed to be my quiet, relaxing ride home."

"Once again, we are not bothering you. It is _you _who is bothering _us_," Nate said.

"Wait, who are you calling a couple?" Parker threatened.

"You have an issue with that, but not with me calling you his wife?" Hardison scratched his head, obviously confused.

"The wife part is technically true, but we are _not _a couple," Parker explained, though her logic was failing him.

"You're married. In the eyes of the U.S. government, you are a couple."

Parker gasped, as if he'd never said anything to her more insulting.

"You'll probably have to file a joint tax return," Hardison added, finding it quite entertaining how she got more furious with each word he said.

"I am not part of a couple!" Parker yelled, thinking no one was giving Hardison's horrific accusation the attention it deserved. She leaned forward to try and reach him (for what, she didn't know, a chokehold maybe), but he leaned away and out of her reach.

"Hardison!" Nate ordered, before Parker could start something that would cause an emergency landing and multiple subsequent arrests. "Leave us alone unless you want to switch seats with me."

"Yes, I'd _love _if you two switched seats," Parker said, her voice laced with violence.

"Uh, no thanks. I want to live through the whole flight," Hardison said, sitting back down.

Sophie glanced over. "Aw, poor Hardison. You can call us a couple if you want."

"He can _what_?" Eliot asked.

"It'll make him feel better," Sophie argued.

"Since when do I care about making Hardison feel better?" Eliot said, though he had no more arguments on the subject.

"It does _not _make me feel better," Hardison mumbled unhappily, then turned around again much to Parker's dismay. He reached down to take the bag of trail mix she was clearly not going to eat. More loudly he added, "I even tried to downgrade back to coach, but they refused, something about all the standby passengers they let on, and now the flight is completely full, except for this one empty seat next to me in first class. Then, I told them that I would happily ride in the baggage area. I'm trustworthy, you know, I'm not the type to go through things that aren't mine."

"No, just the type to find out secrets and then tell _anyone_ you know who will listen," Parker said, aggravated.

"Right, but have I ever gone through your bags, Parker? Nope, never. But they won't let me fly down there, some nonsense about safety and how I could die. I told them that was a risk I was more than willing to take."

Hardison was distracted by the flight attendant who stopped next to Sophie and Eliot. "Here are your sundaes."

"Thank you, this is lovely!" Sophie said graciously.

"My favorite," Eliot added, as Hardison looked across the aisle with trepidation.

"I do love a nice hot fudge sundae. Don't you, Eliot?" She asked, though from her tone, one might imagine 'hot fudge sundae' was a euphemism for something else entirely.

Eliot nodded in total agreement. "You took the words right out of my mouth, Sophie."

"Nate!" Hardison said worriedly, leaning over the seats again. "Do you see this?"

"See what?" Nate asked, as he glanced over.

Sophie was staring right at Hardison as she slowly licked her spoon. "This is delicious. Want to try some, Hardison?"

"No, no I don't!" He shuddered. "Nate, see what they're doing?"

"It looks to me like they're enjoying dessert, Hardison," Parker said, secretly delighted at how much Eliot and Sophie were unnerving him.

"This just melts in your mouth," Eliot said, much too loudly to make any sense – unless he were trying to irritate Hardison, that is. "Hey, Sophie…know what else just melts in your mouth?"

Hardison scrambled out of his seat to kneel next to Nate's in the aisle. "You two gotta help me. Look at what I have to deal with – they can't keep their hands off each other!"

As everyone could see, Eliot and Sophie were only eating their sundaes. In fact, they had more room between them than they'd had during the entire flight. "Hardison," Nate said, "You're seeing things."

"Excuse me, Sir?" A well-dressed man stared down at where Hardison knelt in the aisle. "I'm going to have to ask you to retake your seat."

"I'm having a very important discussion here," Hardison said, dismissing him with a wave, and deciding to list all the grievous ways Eliot and Sophie were acting, as if that might prove his point to Nate. "For one, they're sitting together. Two, they were playing cards earlier – everyone knows that's just foreplay. Three –"

"Really?" Parker asked, wide-eyed, as the man standing over Hardison reached down and pulled him to his feet.

"I'm an air marshal, Sir. Take your seat, now. It is against airline procedure to block the aisle in such a dangerous manner."

Hardison quickly took his seat and tried to look as non-threatening as possible until the air marshal returned to his seat a few rows back. Parker leaned forward. "We played poker together last week!" She said, horrified. "Why didn't you tell me that it's –"

"It's not," Nate reassured her, as she collapsed back into her seat with relief. Hardison then leaned over the seat again. "For God's sake, Hardison, do you want to just sit in my lap for the rest of the flight?" Nate complained.

The flight attendant reappeared and held out a sundae to Hardison. "Courtesy of your friends," she nodded toward Eliot and Sophie who were watching with malicious enjoyment.

"Get away from me!" Hardison yelled, as the air marshal made a move to stand and Hardison quickly said, "I mean, I'm watching my caloric intake. No, thank you."

The attendant shrugged and left as Hardison leaned so far over the seats that Parker was afraid he might pitch forward and fall over them. "Do you see what they're doing to me?"

Parker smiled evilly. "I sure would love a sundae," she said sweetly. "But not in a bowl. Sophie was telling me earlier that they are best eaten from another surface, like…the human body?"

"I need headphones!" Hardison yelled, grabbing Nate's and sitting back down, before paging the flight attendant by hitting the button a dozen times in rapid, panicked succession.

The woman appeared, looking thoroughly exasperated at the fact that 90% of her requests today had come from this group of five people. "Can I help you?" She asked blandly.

"I need sleeping pills, or something. Anything so that I can forget the rest of this flight. Do you have Ambien? Valium? I'm begging you."

"Are you asking me to obtain government regulated drugs for you?" She asked, her voice getting higher with each word.

Hardison had the distinct feeling the air marshal was watching the exchange, and he quickly muttered. "No, I'm kidding. It…was a joke. Hey, you're quite lovely. Are you single, by any chance?"

The attendant walked away without answering and Hardison thought he might finally get to relax, until he looked over to his right. As if she were waiting for the very moment when he was watching (but that would be a paranoid thought, right?) Sophie leaned over and fed Eliot the cherry from the top of her sundae.

He whirled around again to look back at Nate and Parker. They weren't his first choice of distraction but they were the only thing he had left. "Nate," he said desperately. "How goes married life?"

"It goes wonderfully, Hardison. Especially after someone made it very clear that I am the last person on the planet she'd want to be married to," Nate said, somewhat bitterly.

Parker winced at that. It wasn't true, but what had he expected her to say? "Nate, are you still upset about what I said during breakfast?"

His only response was to look at her.

"That was wrong of me, and I'm sorry."

"Really?" He asked skeptically.

"Really," she swore. "About that elderly man and how he'd be a better husband because he could die at any time? That wasn't fair. You could also die at any time."

"What?" Nate had a feeling this wasn't going in any direction he would like.

"This is awesome," Hardison said, watching with enthusiasm.

"Any of us could die at any time! It was unfair to say the other man would probably die before you."

Nate wondered if Eliot would switch seats with him. "Eliot –"

"Not a chance in hell," Eliot called, reading his mind.

Parker had veered off to statistical odds of dying in plane crashes. "Come to think of it, we could all die today. We could be in a flying death trap, destined to crash over the Great Plains."

Hardison was no longer amused, in fact, he sounded stricken. "Parker!"

She happily ignored him. "They'd never identify our bodies, you know? Because there'd be nothing left to identify. Ashes…"

"Parker!" Hardison wheezed, apparently having trouble breathing.

"Yes?" She asked, in a tone Nate recognized as pretending to be innocent. She was setting the poor guy up; Parker always did love her revenge.

As if she'd planned it, the plane jerked from a mild bout of turbulence and Hardison dove back to sit the right way in his seat. "Oh God. I'm gonna die. We're all gonna die!

Eliot glanced across the aisle. "Are you crying?"

Parker leaned over the seat to hiss at Hardison, "Now we're even for you telling everyone about what you saw this morning."

Hardison was barely listening to her, though. "Sophie, oh dear God, Sophie get over here. I need the comforting touch of a woman."

Sophie looked over, a bit shocked at his suggestion. "Hardison, we're in public! I mean the classy thing to do is suggest we meet in the bathroom or –"

"That is wrong, Sophie, just wrong," Eliot cut her off, but she only smiled.

"That's not what I meant," Hardison unnecessarily clarified. "I'm going to die all alone here!"

"You're not going to die," Nate said firmly, turning to glare at Parker. "Look what you've done."

"He deserved it!" She said angrily.

"Fix this," he said, motioning for her to talk to Hardison.

She sighed, and told herself she was only doing this because she still cared about Hardison, despite how he'd been a bastard this morning. She was _not _doing this because Nate asked her to. Absolutely not.

She leaned over the seats in front of her to find Hardison clenching the armrests and reciting what sounded like the Lord's Prayer.

"Hardison," she said quietly, as he jumped and quickly leapt out of his seat, moving to the one next to it to try and get as far away from Parker as possible. Of course, that wasn't very far. "I was just joking around, Hardison. We're not going to die. This plane is perfectly safe."

She glanced back at Nate who nodded with encouragement. She thought desperately for something else to say.

"They say flying is safer than driving. Besides, if we were to crash, you wouldn't even feel it. The impact would be that quick. Well, emotionally you'd suffer in the thirty or so seconds where you knew you were going to die –"

"What?" Hardison yelled.

"Actually, most of the time don't you lose cabin pressure? In that case, you'd be unconscious long before we hit the –" She stopped when Nate pulled her back into the seat next to him.

"Okay, enough comforting. Thanks, Parker," Nate flagged down the flight attendant. "Can I have a scotch? No, make it three. No, better yet, keep them coming."

"Okay?" She asked warily.

"For him," Nate pointed to the seat in front of him where Hardison was fumbling with the phone, muttering about how he needed to remember his great-aunt's number to talk to her one last time.

"I see, right away, Sir." The flight attendant went to get the drinks and Parker took the opportunity of Nate's distraction to lean forward again.

"Hardison, pull yourself together. If it makes you feel any better, if you die, we're all going with you."

Hardison paused at that, then hung up the phone. "You know, you're right, Parker. If I go, you're _all _coming with me! That does make me feel better."

"Wait a minute, it doesn't make _me _feel better!" Eliot yelled. "I think I deserve a better way to go than with Hardison!"

"Oh, I'm not good enough to die with?" Hardison said, insulted.

"No, quite frankly, I should be going out in a blaze of glory," Eliot said.

"Hmm, Eliot, so you always thought you'd go out with what you Americans might call…a bang?" Sophie said grinning.

Eliot held up his drink to her, "Cheers to that!"

Hardison practically lunged at the flight attendant when she came back with the liquor, as he kept shooting Sophie and Eliot dirty looks. "We're going to die and all those two can think about is –"

"No one," Nate cut in loudly, in a voice that told them all to stop talking, "is dying! I don't want to hear another word about it."

Parker's eyes widened, impressed that he'd achieved silence – for the moment anyways. She slumped back into her own seat, as the flight attendant offered her a drink. "No, thanks, I don't feel well."

"Still? From this morning?" Nate asked concerned, and she nodded.

"I just feel sick, I'm going to try and sleep."

Nate grabbed a ginger ale from the attendant before she could move on and set it on Parker's tray.

"What's this? I said I don't want anything."

"It'll make you feel better," he said. At her puzzled glance, he added, "Didn't anyone give you ginger ale or soda when you were sick as a kid?"

She smiled and it was far too sad for his liking. "I was lucky if I got fed as a child. People didn't exactly rush to take care of me when I was sick. Luckily, I wasn't sick too often."

He felt such a fierce swell of rage at her words, that he didn't trust himself to say anything on the subject. Instead, he had to wait for a minute to calm himself and then explained, "The carbonation helps settle your stomach."

She sipped some. "Thanks."

"Smile!" Hardison yelled, as he leaned over the seats and took their picture.

Parker thought she might strangle him with his own shoelaces, but the air marshal was still only 5 seats back.

"I'm going to make a scrapbook to document this epic weekend," Hardison said, then made the mistake of taking Eliot and Sophie's picture as well. Eliot grabbed the camera so fast that Hardison complained he had rope burn from where the string had been around his wrist.

"Sit down and find something to occupy yourself," he ordered, ignoring Hardison's protests.

"Next time I'm taking the train, I don't care if it takes three days to go across country," Hardison swore.

Parker shifted around, sipping her drink and trying to get comfortable. This sometimes happened to her when she drank too much. She'd get better over the course of the morning, but then, later on, she'd feel ill again. It only happened when she drank a _lot._ As if she needed any more proof of that after what she'd done last night.

To her immense aggravation, Nate appeared to be suffering no more effects from last night, as he sat drinking his water and flipping through some papers Eliot had given him. She caught the logo on top and realized they were from the advertising firm they were looking into.

He must have sensed her staring at him because without even looking at her, he grabbed one of the blankets she had strewn around her and folded it up. She watched as he placed it on his lap and then held out his arm.

She thought about ignoring the obvious invitation, but she couldn't get comfortable, even though they were in first class and supposedly had plenty of room. She really did feel sick, and if she laid down for a few minutes maybe…oh to hell with it. She carefully laid down and then stretched out, allowing herself to relax, telling herself not to flinch when he put his arm back down to cover her waist_ (it's not always bad when people touch you_, she would sometimes have to remind herself). And this really was more comfortable – provided Hardison didn't try to annoy them again.

Sometimes she swore he was able to read minds, because no sooner had she thought it than Hardison appeared over the top of the seats in front of them – for the 117th time this flight.

He surveyed the scene before him and opened his mouth, no doubt to make another sarcastic comment, but Nate held up his hand to stop him and then motioned for him to turn around. Parker couldn't see Nate's face, but she guessed it must have been quite fear inducing for Hardison, because he turned back around without another word.

Parker shut her eyes and found herself drifting between sleep and waking much more easily than she'd expected. She dimly heard Eliot come over to kneel next to Nate, showing him something on his laptop. Something about the convention they'd been at – she didn't really care.

From in front of them, Hardison said (she guessed to himself) with vehemence that it was suspect that the air marshal only cared when _he _blocked the aisle, but let Eliot do it for 20 minutes and the marshal didn't care at all.

Then a bit later, Sophie's laughter, as she asked Hardison if he wanted the candy bars she'd gotten with her meal that she wasn't going to eat. From Hardison's lack of response, Parker knew it was a peace offering that was quietly accepted.

She nearly jumped when she felt someone running their hand through her hair – no, not just someone, it had to be Nate because it sure as hell wasn't Eliot, and for Hardison to reach that far he _would _fall over the back of the seats. Nate was still talking to Eliot, and it hit her with such sudden force that she nearly wanted to cry – he was trying to make her feel better. And he didn't even realize it.

The last thought she had before she fell asleep was that she'd never felt safer before in her life. And that meant she was in a hell of a lot of trouble.

**XXXXXX**

TBC – I'm having so much fun with this story, I do think that this is my favorite of any I've written for N/P. As always, I love all thoughts.


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer:** See chapter 1.

**Author's note:** I've never had more fun with a story, ever. Thanks to readers & reviewers!

**XXXXXX**

Never let it be said that either Nate or Parker didn't excel at avoidance.

As it happened, the first thing they did upon getting home was not to find another judge, but rather to get caught up in another job. And then another half dozen after that. By the time they got around to making an appointment with another judge, they had been married for over four months.

Along the way, despite Eliot and Hardison's constant teasing, they both happily pretended the marriage had never happened (except for Parker's occasional taunts to Nate about the rings he'd bought). But otherwise, they never thought about that day – or at least that's what they'd claim if they were asked.

Except some things were quite different after that trip to Las Vegas. For one, the rest of the team noticed that Nate and Parker seemed much more comfortable with each other. As for Sophie and Eliot – who the hell knew what was going on with them? Half the time Nate thought they were really together, the other half he thought they were only putting on a show to screw with Hardison. Knowing them, the truth was probably a mixture of both.

Nate wasn't thinking of Eliot or Sophie while he and Parker sat in a courtroom, awaiting the entrance of the judge. He leaned back in his chair and watched as Parker (his _wife_, a voice in his head whispered) spun restlessly in hers. He'd never get used to that fact: that they were married. Then he shook himself and remembered he wouldn't have to, because soon they wouldn't be married anymore.

Parker spun her ring over and over again on the table in front of them.

"Why do you have that?" Nate asked. He'd seen her playing with it restlessly at various times since they came back from Vegas, but he'd never asked her about it. Now seemed as good a time as any.

Parker froze momentarily before recovering and shrugging in a way she hoped he interpreted as nonchalant. "I don't know. Still, I don't think you could have gotten me a cheaper ring if you tried, Nate."

He had found his own wedding band on the bureau in his hotel room the day they left Las Vegas. He'd meant to throw it away, but for some reason, it had found its way onto his nightstand at home. In fact, it was the last thing he saw every night before he went to bed.

"I probably put a lot of thought into that," he defended himself as he watched her stop the ring right before it was going to fall off the table.

"It's aluminum with cubic zirconia diamonds," she told him, as if he didn't already know. They'd had this argument before. "If you really loved me you'd have gotten the real thing."

"Guess I don't really love you then," he smiled at her and was saved from her no doubt scathing reply by the judge entering.

Nate explained their situation, summarizing what they'd put in their court papers, and as he talked he could tell by the way the judge looked at them that things weren't promising.

"Am I to believe," Judge Galen began, "that you accidentally got married over four months ago, in a night which you both claim you can't remember, and yet you are only now seeking an annulment?"

"We tried, Your Honor. However, at the time, the judge in Las Vegas refused to grant our petition. Since then, we've gotten caught up in…" he glanced at Parker as the thought of all the illegal things their team had done since then crossed his mind, "...other things."

"That's true," Parker agreed. "We've had more important things to do."

"More important than annulling your marriage, I'm sure."

Parker figured that probably wasn't a question, but she decided to treat it as one. "If you knew what I had to deal with," she said, "you'd grant our request without any arguments."

"Why don't you tell me exactly what you've had to deal with, then?" The judge propped her head on her hand and Nate got the feeling she'd been having a particularly boring day and hoped this session would spice things up.

"Well…uh…" Parker had been sure that when the time came, she'd be able to come up with a long list of grievances against Nate. Only now, she couldn't think of any. Except for the obvious. "I'm married!"

"Let me get this straight," Judge Galen said. "Your main complaint about being married is that…you're married."

"Finally," Parker glanced at Nate. "Someone gets it!"

"Do you two currently reside with each other?"

"No," Nate said.

"Sometimes," Parker answered at the exact same time.

Nate gave her a look to ask what the hell she was doing.

"I can't lie, Nate," Parker leaned over to whisper to him. "She's a judge, what if she finds out. I'm not going to jail for you!"

"Which is it?" Judge Galen asked.

"She stays over sometimes," Nate said, "but only if we're working late. We each have our own residences."

"Right, we don't sleep together that much," Parker added.

The judge raised her eyebrows at that as Nate jumped in. "In the same apartment! She means we sleep together but not," he sighed, looking at the ceiling, "together."

"Sounds like my marriage," the judge muttered.

"Maybe if you considered doing something with your hair then your husband might –"

Nate yanked her chair closer to his. "Please stop talking."

"I must say," the judge watched them closely, "that I've read both of your statements and it does not seem to me like you two want an annulment all that much."

"Then maybe you have a reading comprehension prob –"

"Parker!" Nate yelled, then tried to sound disarming for the judge. "She has a bad sense of humor. Ignore _everything_ she says from now on."

"See? He doesn't listen to me!" Parker lamented.

Nate thought physically dragging her out of the courtroom would probably be frowned upon, so he kept himself in check. Barely.

The judge seemed unhappier as the minutes passed, and Parker, as usual, didn't listen to Nate.

"It's practically an emergency, you _have _to grant this," Parker tried again.

Nate was relieved that she hadn't included an insult in her statement, but as soon as the anger passed over Judge Galen's face, he knew it had been the wrong thing to say.

"First of all," the judge said briskly, "if you truly felt that way, you would have tried to seek an annulment long before now. Second, I doubt you understand the nature of the word 'emergency,' because _this _case does not qualify. You know what would merit immediate action? An abusive relationship. Discovering that your spouse is married to someone else. Or perhaps finding out that they're a serial killer."

Parker turned to Nate at that, assessing him. He met her gaze head on and willed her, with all his might, to not say anything.

"I don't see anything about your situation that's an emergency," the judge continued to lecture.

"Would it help the process along if I told you that Nate could very well be a serial killer?" Parker asked.

"I'm not a serial killer," Nate reassured the judge, before turning to Parker. "Though you never know about the future."

Parker shrugged. "It was worth a shot."

The judge only stared at her for a moment before glancing back down at the paperwork they'd had to submit to the court. "You've known each other for years. You work at the same consulting firm. You're obviously friends, you got married accidentally – you say – but then waited four months to seek an annulment? This is not like the vast majority of cases. Everything I'm seeing tells me that you are trying to seek an annulment to avoid the greater expense associated with a divorce."

"That is not true," Parker argued. "And if you're looking at our petition, you would see that we _did _try to seek an annulment before, except the judge we saw was completely irrational – and much too sensitive," she added, remembering how worked up he'd gotten at her comments about his intellect. "He wouldn't listen to reason and he allowed his own personal bias to interfere with what should have been a professional decision." She spun her ring again.

"Mmhmm," Judge Galen was less than impressed. "That would be Judge Nelson Caffrey, who I just spoke to last week?"

Parker slammed her hand down onto her ring in surprise, and Nate knew they weren't getting out of this.

"I don't need to hear anymore," the judge said. "I would have granted your request if not for this long time lapse. And coupled with the phone call I received from Judge Caffrey, I'm inclined to believe that you two are taking advantage of the system. It seems obvious to me that the two of you got married based upon a legitimate desire on both your parts, and that only now, after seeing a few months later it wouldn't work, you're seeking an annulment in order to avoid the cost of a divorce."

Nate was almost positive that they were on some sort of hidden camera show, because this did not really happen to people. And why had Judge Caffrey tracked them down only to contact their current judge? Had Parker aggravated the man _that _much? It seemed above and beyond what a normal person might do.

Either way, they were at an impasse. And still married.

Parker felt as if the floor were giving way beneath her feet. This judge could not force her to stay married to Nate. He would hate her more than he already did. Maybe forever. "You _have_ to do this," she told the judge.

"I do not have to do anything," she informed Parker. "But you two do. I'm denying your petition for an annulment but I will grant you a divorce – on one condition."

Nate was almost afraid to ask. "That being?"

"That you both complete couple's counseling."

Parker gripped the ring in her hand so tightly that she knew it would leave a mark. "That's a funny joke, Your Honor."

"No joke," the judge told them sternly. "Mr. and Mrs. Ford, believe me when I say I am not in the habit of forcing couples who hate each other to stay married. However, everything I've read in these forms and everything I've seen in the courtroom today leads me to believe that you have been lying either to the court or to each other. It's clear that you two once had some genuine affection for each other. In fact, it's my personal opinion that you married each other because you both wanted to. I cannot in good conscience allow you to subvert the system to obtain an annulment on illegal grounds. You may have a divorce, if you complete the course which I am legally allowed to assign. Or you can try and find another judge more sympathetic to your obviously fake excuses. By the way, I know every judge in this system. It's your choice."

"Relationship counseling sounds excellent, Your Honor," Nate said reluctantly. He took the papers the judge held out for him. "Let's go," he ordered Parker. He could tell she wanted to argue, but for once she kept her mouth shut until they were out of the judge's earshot. He decided to be grateful for small miracles.

"Why can't we find someone else?" She complained as soon as they'd left the courthouse.

"Didn't you hear her? She pretty much implied she'd make sure no one else would grant us an annulment or divorce. I don't know what it is with us and judges lately. We're not having any luck."

"Maybe we can get Hardison to bribe one of them, or blackmail somebody. That'd be a lot easier."

"I know you're always looking for the illegal solution to a problem –" at her accusing look he sighed. "Alright, so am I. But in this case it's going to be much easier and quicker to simply sit down with a counselor for a session and then get Judge Galen to grant the divorce. Don't you think?"

"I hate counselors, and psychiatrists, and all mental health professionals, actually."

"A counselor is not necessarily a psychiatrist," he pointed out. "All she'll do is ask about our relationship. We'll tell her the truth. She'll agree we should get a divorce and sign off on it, and that will be it. It will be simple, I swear."

Parker heaved a sigh, but he knew he'd convinced her. "You owe me, Nathan Ford. I'm taking half of everything you own."

"Whatever it takes to buy back my freedom," he said, perhaps more bitterly than he'd intended.

She was glad he wasn't looking at her, which meant he missed the hurt that flashed across her face. She'd had plenty of people in her life try to get away from her; it shouldn't still be such a surprise.

They didn't talk the rest of the way home.

XXXXXX

"Congratulations on your annulment!" Sophie cried the second they entered Nate's apartment. "It took over four months but we knew you'd get it done eventually."

Hardison held out the cake he had baked them, complete with a gravestone decoration that had the beginning and (what he thought was) the end date of their marriage.

Parker exaggeratedly collapsed into a seat at the kitchen table. "You might want to save that, Hardison. See, what my husband here failed to tell me is that the longer we waited to get an annulment, the less likely a judge would be to believe that we hadn't willingly gotten married in the first place."

"How was I supposed to know that a sadistic Las Vegas judge would contact this one and convince her we were trying to play the system?" Nate said in frustration.

"You're still married!" Eliot guessed with too much evil glee.

"Not only that," Nate threw the papers the judge had given them onto the table, "but we have to complete a relationship counseling course before she'll grant us a divorce."

"This is why women shouldn't be allowed to be judges," Parker sulked.

"It's a set-back," Sophie acknowledged, considering herself the only rationally-minded person in the room. "But let's be realistic, nothing really changes. Neither of you were planning on getting married for _real _any time soon, were you?"

"I'd like to point out that they are already married for real," Hardison chimed in.

"You never know," Parker said defensively. "Things happen! What if I _did _want to marry someone else?"

"And just who were you planning to marry any time in the near future?" Hardison challenged.

"I don't know," she got up and stepped nearer to him. "Maybe you."

"Wh-what?" Hardison's smile vanished. "You're playing with me, right?" He looked almost scared.

Parker only shrugged, and then laughed to herself when he fled to the living room.

"All you have to do," Sophie wisely ignored them, "is go through the motions and then you'll get your divorce. It sounds easy."

"Easy?" Nate objected, "With _her_?" He gestured toward Parker in amazement.

"You're the one who just convinced me on the way home it'd be simple!" She cried.

"I've been rethinking it since then," he informed her.

"There are other options here, Nate," Parker said, in a voice that was far too nice for her. "If I kill you I don't have to get an annulment or a divorce."

"You two really do need counseling," Hardison called over to them, though when Nate and Parker both turned toward him, he quickly 'remembered' somewhere he had to be and left the apartment in a hurry. It was in that moment that he decided he could never reveal he'd impersonated Judge Nelson Caffrey in a call to their current judge. He thought it'd be a hilarious joke. Now he thought it might just ensure him a shallow grave.

XXXXXX

"This place is depressing," Nate told her as they sat in the waiting room of Dr. Katherine Foster, certified marriage counselor. Parker didn't respond, but she privately agreed. They watched in silence as a couple stiffly left Dr. Foster's office, obviously trying to hide their desire to scream at each other.

Parker had seen many sad things in her life, most of which she didn't care to remember, but sitting in Dr. Foster's waiting room (which she shared with several other counselors) amounted to witnessing the last desperations of people who had nowhere else to go.

She surreptitiously watched a couple across from them bicker while trying not to attract too much attention. They hated each other. She felt like a fraud sitting there with Nate, because it seemed that their non-marriage was more of a marriage than the variety of feuding couples they'd been witness to for the past twenty minutes. At least she didn't want to murder the man sitting next to her, which appeared to be a step up from most of the other people she'd seen.

In fact, of the three other couples on the plush waiting room couches, they were actually sitting the closest together. Two other couples had at least two feet between them and the third couple had taken up positions at opposite ends of the room. She definitely didn't give that one much hope.

Nate flipped through a golfing magazine, and she could tell by the way he didn't stop for long on any page that he was beyond bored. As for her, she could barely concentrate on anything. She was too hyper-aware of the tension and unhappiness in the room. She _knew _that kind of misery and she had spent her whole life swearing she would avoid it as much as possible. She would never get married and put herself in that kind of position. Yet, somehow, she hadn't avoided that, had she?

They only had five minutes until their appointment was due to begin and that seemed like far too long to wait. When the man across from them suddenly stood and yelled at his wife that he was sick of her ordering him to 'these pointless excuses for a sham doctor to make money off of other people's suffering,' Parker involuntarily flinched and shifted closer to Nate.

He glanced down at where she was practically leaning on him. "Are you alright?"

"I hate fighting," she muttered, crossing her arms and watching as the man who'd had an outburst strode off to the bank of elevators. His wife waited until he was gone before she stood up to leave as well, flashing a short, apologetic smile at Parker – the only person in the waiting room who wasn't politely looking away from the scene they'd just witnessed.

Honestly, why did anyone want to subject themselves to the miseries of marriage? It seemed like such a waste, an excuse to violently hate the person you, at one point in time, truly cared about.

She let her gaze linger over Nate for a moment before concluding she would never understand how people could come to despise those they had once loved above anyone else.

**XXXXXX**

TBC – To all following - this is my favorite story so far for a reason. How much fun can I have with court-mandated counseling sessions? Probably too much.

I love all thoughts.


	5. Chapter 5

**Disclaimer:** See chapter 1.

**Author's note:** I know I've been updating slower. Every time I get stuck I start something new, but I'm going to try and do better! Everything I write will be finished in a more or less timely manner (i.e. you won't be waiting years! I'll almost always finish within a month or two at the most, if I'm truly stuck).

This chapter is longer because it's been over a week, and because if I split it I'd have two chapters very uneven in length.

**XXXXXX**

A half hour later, after explaining the situation in detail to Dr. Foster, she and Nate were being subjected to too many questions – and uncomfortable ones at that.

No matter how many times they insisted the incident had been a colossally disastrous mistake, Dr. Foster wouldn't agree to simply sign off on their forms. She insisted they follow her entire 10 session program, especially when she learned they had known each other for over two years. She cited something about the integrity of her process, but Parker could tell by the woman's eagerness that she seemed to take it personally if a couple under her watch decided to end things for good.

Another thing to blame Nate for. She should make a list, to prove to him just how much he was going to owe her.

"The whole thing was an accident," Parker tried to explain, _again_. "Neither of us even remember that night!"

"I see," Dr. Foster said. "And what about the four months since then. Was it also an accident you remained married for that entire time?"

"Yes!" Parker said, excited that the woman seemed to be getting it. "Now you understand."

"What I understand is that you seem to think I'm not that bright," Foster narrowed her eyes.

The woman made it too easy! Parker was about to reply when Nate stopped her.

"Parker." From his tone she could hear everything. Wariness, resignation, and a desperate plea to simply play along because it was the fastest way they were getting out of this.

She glanced over and met his eyes. She didn't want to, but maybe he was right. Maybe they simply had to do this to get to the end. The end of their marriage. She shifted uncomfortably at the thought.

"I think," Nate tried to explain to Foster, "you don't truly understand that we've been the victim of unfair judges."

"What makes you say that?" Foster asked, deciding to give them a chance to explain about this supposed 'bias' so that she could point out the ludicrousness of their paranoia and then move on to actual counseling.

"I tried everything with Judge Galen," Parker complained. "I even told her that Nate's probably a serial killer."

"I'm – Parker stop saying that!" Nate bit out with frustration.

"Well – what?" Foster turned to Nate in alarm. "Why would your wife think you're a murderer?"

"He bought duct tape the other day," Parker said quickly. When Nate turned to her she held up her hands as if innocent. "I'm just saying."

"I had a reason for buying that," Nate told the counselor, and couldn't believe he had to defend himself for this.

"I think there are some underlying –" Foster started, only to have Nate interrupt her.

"You know why I bought it Parker! It was for –" he stopped, realizing that it wouldn't be too smart to bring up that they'd needed it to detain a Russian art smuggler for a day in their last job. Come to think of it, what legal reasons _did _people use duct tape for? "We uh, had to…hang that painting. There are plenty of legitimate reasons people buy duct tape!"

Parker nodded. "For tying up victims, yeah."

"I have to say," Foster cut in, "that if you're making up lies about your spouse in an attempt to get me to think that –"

"It's not a lie!" Parker insisted. "He really bought duct tape!"

"When we get home I may just use it on you," Nate told her.

"You said you'd never tie me up," Parker accused.

"If I'd known how much trouble you were going to cause me, I wouldn't have made such a promise!"

Dr. Foster looked increasingly upset. "It appears things are worse than you've both told me, and this may be an uncomfortable question but it's best to get these issues out in the open. I've found that when you shine the light of openness on a relationship, the darkness often disappears."

Parker spared a quick glance at Nate, happy to find he looked as confused by that statement as she did.

"Have either of you been abusive in your relationship, either physically or emotionally?"

Parker was honestly floored at the question. The woman thought Nate would _hurt her_? It was an appalling thought that couldn't be further from any truth out there. "No way," Parker swore.

"Abuse can go both ways," Foster said, directing this at Nate.

"Wait, are you suggesting that maybe _I _am the one abusing Nate? That is ridiculous!" Parker laughed.

Foster shook her head gravely. "Abuse is not gender specific, Mrs. Ford."

Parker bristled, at both the implied accusation and the title. "You're wrong." She looked to Nate for help.

Truthfully, the suggestion had frozen him for a minute. He knew it was a standard question, but the thought that this woman considered the possibility that he would harm Parker – it made him furious, especially considering what he knew of her past.

"She would never be abusive," Nate confirmed to Foster. "And I would never hurt her."

"I'm glad to –" Foster began.

"If anyone else did," he leaned forward as if she hadn't spoken, "I would kill them."

Foster watched him, surprised at the vehemence in his tone. Parker almost reached over to touch him. Almost.

"Though I can understand why it might sometimes _seem _like we hurt each other," Nate continued, "especially when my wife _jokes _that I'm a murderer. She has a macabre sense of humor."

"It was…light-hearted banter!" Parker confirmed quickly.

"Uh huh," Foster jotted something in her notebook, as she'd been doing the whole session, and Parker wanted to rip it out of her hands to read it.

Ten minutes later, Foster had finally cornered Parker on her obviously negative attitudes toward marriage, and asked if it might have anything to do with a difficult childhood. Parker merely stared the woman down in response, and Nate stepped in, talking about his first marriage to Maggie.

Parker found herself witness to a side of Nate she'd never really given much thought to before. He really had loved his first wife; maybe he still did. Parker was inclined to think if their son hadn't died, they'd still be a happy family today.

And that made her wonder – where would she be?

For the first time since she'd started working on Nate's team, she found she couldn't clearly picture being on her own anymore.

More than that, she couldn't picture herself without _him_, and if she'd told that to her former self – the one who Nathan Ford had tried to track down several years before – she'd never have believed it.

As Nate talked about how he had sworn to never marry again (and she hadn't known that either), Parker absently reached into her pocket, feeling the ring there. She had forgotten to leave it at home. She never put it on (except, presumably when they got married, though she couldn't remember that). Yet for some reason, the majority of the time she found herself carrying it with her. At first she chalked it up to absent-mindedness. But now, over four months later, she worried she might feel some sentimentality over it – or God forbid – this marriage, and the thought scared her to death.

She would have to get rid of it as soon as she got home.

"I think that about wraps up our time, I look forward to seeing you both next week. Parker, since we focused so much on Nate today, we'll have to spend time on you in the next session."

"Sure," Parker said, in a tone which clearly conveyed they would be doing no such thing.

"Remember the homework I gave you," Foster said as they left her office.

"What homework?" Parker asked as they crossed to the elevators. She must have been daydreaming during that part.

Nate handed her some of the papers he was holding, and she skimmed them in disbelief. "How am I supposed to know any of this stuff!" She exclaimed. "What are your spouse's long-term goals? Dreams? Likes and dislikes? Occupation?"

He glared at her for that one. "How do you not know what I do by now?"

"I can't exactly put criminal mastermind on here, can I?" She said as they stepped into the elevator.

"Mastermind? Really?" He sounded far too flattered.

"Oh, never mind," she said.

"According to the instructions," he pointed to the top paragraph, "we're supposed to fill them out about each other and then we compare and see how many we got right."

"She can't make us do this," Parker complained, and threw the papers away as they left the building.

Nate didn't say anything, though he had to smile – he'd known she would throw them away. Too bad there was no question about that.

XXXXXX

As it turned out, Foster was none too happy with the fact that Parker had thrown everything away, and after a stern lecture at their next session, she received another packet and, as a delightful bonus, trust exercises to perform with each other.

"I told you," Nate shook his head as they got back to his apartment. "You wouldn't listen."

"The woman is insane," Parker dropped the papers on the kitchen table. "And to think she had the gall to order we get a witness to sign off that we actually did this stuff! 'The honor system obviously doesn't work for you two,'" she mimicked. "As if I couldn't simply sign the name of a person who doesn't even exist." Nate barely hid his smile as Sophie picked up the papers and scanned through them.

"Oh my gosh! Trust exercises – I love these!"

"Thanks a lot, Nate," Eliot complained. "Do you have any idea what you just did?"

Sophie ignored him, skimming through what Nate and Parker were supposed to do. "Haven't any of you done these before?"

"No," Parker told her. "Come on, who would I have done them with?"

Nate didn't see much point to it. "I think we all trust each other. We wouldn't be working together if we didn't."

"Then let's prove it," Sophie said, still excited. "We'll see what we really think of each other on a more personal level."

"We're not doing them," Parker said firmly, looking to Nate for support. He agreed with her but kept silent, because maybe Sophie had a point. He was interested to see how they reacted. "You're supposed to agree with me," Parker complained once she realized he wouldn't back her up, "that's what marriage is about!"

"There's something you and Maggie have in common," he muttered.

"You are _both _doing them," Sophie ordered. "In fact, we're _all _going to do them."

"I did not agree to that!" Eliot argued.

"You didn't have to," Sophie said, letting him know she'd accept nothing but cooperation.

"Fine, but I'm doing this for them," he walked over to Nate and Parker, throwing an arm around each of them, as if he actually cared about their counseling sessions, "not because of your threat."

"Oh please," Sophie complained. "No one's buying it."

Parker sat down at the table and shuffled the papers; she wanted badly to set them on fire. "This is such a waste of time."

"It's to strengthen your relationship," Sophie said enthusiastically. "You two won't regret it, I promise."

"Is this going to be like the time you promised we'd enjoy your role in _I Swear To God I Still Know What You Did Last Summer_?" Parker complained, "Because it really doesn't take that much work to lay on a table in the morgue –"

"Parker, no," Nate hissed as he stepped up behind her, hoping Sophie wouldn't get too upset at the comment.

Eliot sensed Sophie's rising anger and tried to intervene to distract her. "I think maybe we should start!" He said, picking up a paper and waving it around.

"We don't need your help, Eliot," Parker told him, starting to stand. "In fact, I have to get going, you four have fun with –"

Sophie slammed her hands down on the table so hard that Parker fell back into her seat. "You're not going anywhere unless you want me to call Dr. Foster."

"Nate," Parker whispered without looking away from the grifter, "Sophie's being evil."

"At least we'll suffer together," Nate told her, trying to sound optimistic as he looked down at her. She tilted her head back to look up at him and he put his hands on her shoulders. "We'll survive."

"More than that," Sophie said dramatically, "we'll _trust_."

Nate thought maybe he should have agreed with Parker in the first place on there being no need for this. Too late now.

"It's settled…" Sophie said, entirely too pleased with herself. "Hardison, get over here."

Hardison had been lounging on the couch in the living room, ignoring them with success, but when Sophie called his name he couldn't pretend to be oblivious anymore. "Did you two have a thought-provoking session with Dr. Foster?" He asked as he walked to where Sophie instructed.

Parker didn't answer and Nate shook his head. He had no idea how they were going to get through eight more sessions in such a way as to make their counselor satisfied they had actually done what she suggested. Today hadn't helped when Parker had told the woman that either she was an extraordinary forger of Yale University degrees or else that institution had lost all respect in her eyes for giving her a doctorate.

"First up," Sophie read from the packet. "Balance exercises! I love these." She positioned Hardison and Eliot to face each other. "Now you both hold each other's hands and then lean backwards. The trust part comes in that the other person isn't going to let go and let you fall."

Eliot was more horrified by the minute. "You've got to be kidding me. I'm not doing that with him!" He went off to the fridge to grab a drink, preferably something alcoholic.

Sophie sighed, put out. "Fine, Hardison and I will do it." She took his hands and leaned back.

Unfortunately, she had no idea that Hardison had to screw up _everything_. He didn't know how to do the exercise and panicked, pulling on her hands so hard that she stumbled and nearly fell on top of him as he took a few steps back.

"Hardison!" She complained. "The object is to hold onto your partner – not to pull them over on top of you."

"Wait, maybe I do want to try these," Eliot smirked at Sophie, as she ignored him.

"This is hard," the hacker complained, "how am I supposed to know the appropriate amount to pull you?"

"Let's try again," she ordered as they reset themselves. Parker watched with interest as once again, Hardison pulled too hard on Sophie in panic and she ended up nearly falling onto him.

"This looks like fun," Parker remarked as Sophie berated Hardison on the fact that it wasn't rocket science.

Sophie dragged Eliot over and demonstrated the way to properly do it. They both leaned back and neither of them fell.

"I can't believe you couldn't figure this out," Eliot told Hardison. "Though maybe I shouldn't be surprised, since you're often inept at the simplest of things."

While the two of them got into a bickering match, Sophie ordered Nate and Parker to do the same exercise.

Parker tentatively held out her hands, staring hard at him. "If you let go of me, I will be exacting my revenge in an unnamed manner, at an unnamed time, on an unnamed date in the future," she warned.

"That's…real specific," he said, taking her hands. "I was going to let go of you, but now that you said that, I'll reconsider."

"Are you taking this lightly?" She nearly yelled. "Foster is going to be hearing about this at our next session."

"Relax, Parker," he soothed, giving Sophie a glance to indicate he was completely out of his depth. Sophie was no help and only motioned for them to get on with it.

Parker didn't lean back until he did so first. And she held Nate's hands with a near deathly grip, but it didn't bother him. Instead, he only thought that maybe he should be going easier on her because if she didn't trust _him _to not let go of her, then she probably didn't trust anyone at all. And it aggravated him, because he really should have figured that out before now.

When neither of them fell, Parker considered it a remarkable feat.

"Brilliant!" Sophie said, making a flourishing checkmark on Foster's trust exercise sheet. "See how easy that was?"

"Easy? Like hell!" Hardison scoffed.

"What's next?" Sophie said, scanning the sheet. "Oh, blindness!"

"Huh?" Parker asked, as Sophie ran upstairs to get some of Nate's ties. She picked up the sheet and read that one partner had to be blindfolded while the other led them around. No way in hell. "Nate, our counselor is _Satan_!"

Nate put his arm around her in sympathy.

"Here you go, Hardison," Sophie returned, handing him a tie, as Hardison backed away.

"You must have damn near lost your mind, woman, if you think I'm going to put that around my head!"

Sophie pouted and then turned to Eliot, holding out a tie. "Would you?"

Eliot looked as if he were severely wavering, but then he gave in to her, as everyone knew he would. "Fine, but you owe me."

"Trust me, I'll make it up to you later," Sophie assured him. "Nate, you don't mind if we bring some of these home, do you?"

"If you do, _never _bring them back," Nate ordered.

Sophie smiled broadly at that as she tied it around Eliot's head. "Okay, Hardison, get over here."

"Wait!" Eliot cried, "I thought _you'd _be leading me around, Sophie."

"Why?" She asked. "We already trust each other, which defeats the point. You need to learn to trust someone else. Like Hardison."

"I don't trust Hardison. I _don't_ trust Hardison!" Eliot said, panicked, reaching out to try and grab hold of Sophie but she was able to evade him at the last moment.

"Now Hardison," Sophie said right over Eliot's protests, "all you have to do is lead Eliot safely down to the bar and back. You're his eyes. Now go!" She gave them both a shove to get started and Eliot fell into the kitchen counter. "Oh, Hardison you should have caught that, remember _you're his eyes_!"

"Sophie…" Eliot's tone said all that needed to be said. Only she wasn't going to give in, and he must have known it because he sighed with frustration.

Hardison gingerly took Eliot's arm, as if he thought the other man might snap it off. The other three watched them leave the apartment with no small amount of fascination and trepidation.

"I don't know if this the best –" Parker stopped talking when they heard a shrill scream (Hardison) followed by a crash and profuse swearing (Eliot).

"Uh oh," Sophie whispered, as they all rushed to the doorway. Hardison and Eliot came back up the stairs, Eliot obviously in pain and Hardison trying to stay as far away from him as possible.

"It was an accident," Hardison said, "I swear!"

"You're dead, Hardison. I can't believe you didn't tell me there were stairs coming up!"

"It slipped my mind!" Hardison protested.

"Tell me I can lead him next," Eliot pleaded to Sophie. "Because I'll lead him right out the window."

"I think that you two are done," Sophie said warily, then brightened as she turned to Nate and Parker. "You two are next."

"I will set on fire anyone who tries to blindfold me," Parker said firmly.

Sophie tried to convince an unrelenting Parker until Nate finally stepped in. "Sophie, forget it, we'll do that one another time. What's the next one?"

Sophie frowned, unhappy at being overruled, but she told them about the next item on the list. "Trust falls! Hardison, you fall backwards and Eliot will catch you."

Eliot mumbled this was a waste of time because he wasn't the one in counseling, but Sophie only told him to shut up.

"On three, man, you ready?" Hardison asked.

"Whatever, Hardison."

Hardison didn't move, though. "You're going to let me fall on purpose, aren't you, because of that…stairway incident."

"Just fall and get it over with!"

"That wasn't an answer," Hardison complained.

Eliot felt he was going to need to provoke a bar fight later on to get over this horrible day. "I'm not going to let you fall because Sophie told me if I play nice – I'll spare you the details."

"Oh man, it's something dirty, isn't it?" Hardison grinned. "High five!" His smile vanished when Eliot's face didn't change one bit.

"Would you two get on with it," Parker groaned, letting her head fall onto the table. "You're worse than a couple!"

"On three," Hardison said again. "Not right before three, or right _after _three, but _on _three. Alright. Here it is. One, two...no, I'm not ready. Okay, one, two…no wait, is that pace too fast?"

"Hardison!" Eliot and Sophie yelled in unison.

"Fine!" He said, indignant. "One, two…let me start over. "

Parker couldn't take it and stood up from the table. "This is ridiculous."

"Hardison, if you don't fall this time –" Eliot began.

"I'm fine, I needed to get ready." He jumped up and down a few times, stretching. "This time, for real."

He loudly counted and right as he said three, Parker angrily pushed her way past both of them. "I have no idea what this is supposed to prove," she said, as Eliot barely caught himself on a kitchen chair – and Hardison landed on the floor.

"What the hell, man?" Hardison jumped up. "Trust. Exercises. How can I ever trust you again?"

"It's not my fault, Parker shoved past me!" Eliot defended himself, as Hardison angrily went back to the couch, insisting his faith in Eliot was irreparably shattered.

"Maybe you two should be in counseling," Nate suggested.

"Forget them," Sophie said, "now you two come here and try."

"I don't want to," Parker said, defiantly crossing her arms and attempting to stare Sophie down.

However, when Sophie got an idea in her head, she sometimes simply could not let it go. "You already got out of the blindfold one, you're not getting out of this one, too. Look how easy it is, Parker," Sophie fell backwards, and Nate, not expecting it, barely caught her in time. "Trust – it's the basis of any solid relationship."

"I don't need anyone to catch me," Parker argued, "I rely on myself just fine."

"And what if that isn't enough?" Sophie argued, following along with the hypothetical scenario. "What if you can't catch yourself?"

"Then I land on the floor. And I get up again," Parker said coldly.

"Come on, Parker," Nate tried. "So that Sophie will let it go and we can move on."

"No." She would not do something so ridiculous.

"I'll tell Foster on you," Nate warned. "She'll give you even more homework."

"You wouldn't," Parker gasped, shocked at the betrayal.

"Try me," he challenged.

"I hate you," she muttered as he stood behind her, "and I'm going to tell her you forced me to do this. Then we'll see what she has to say about lack of trust in this relationship."

They waited. And waited. "I'm ready," Nate told her, and she tried, she did. She shut her eyes. She imagined there was nothing to fear. She tried to clear her head of every thought it contained. But she simply couldn't give in and let herself fall. She stopped herself every time.

Sophie tried enthusiastic encouragement. "Come on, Parker, you can do it."

"Falling is _not _that hard, Parker," Hardison told her (ignoring the way Eliot and Sophie started ridiculing him that _he _was one to talk).

Eliot said he didn't understand how someone who could jump off buildings couldn't lean backwards when it was a five foot distance to the floor.

Parker figured it out though, in her ten minutes of hemming and hawing and otherwise procrastinating. Anyone could perform the jumps she did if they knew how to do it right. She always prepared her own harnesses and she knew they would catch her without fail. Because she set them up herself.

This type of exercise didn't have a safety net, something she could put in place to ensure she didn't hit the ground.

"I can't take it!" Sophie finally yelled, shoving Parker toward Nate.

Parker reached out to grab Sophie and steady herself, but she was too late. Luckily Nate was still waiting and caught her with ease. Parker took a moment to compose herself, and it scared her, it truly did, that such a simple thing had caused her an amount of anxiety she hadn't felt in over a decade. What the hell was going on?

"I think," she told Sophie angrily, as Nate held onto her arms to keep steadying her, "that _you and I_ need to have a conversation about trust."

"Sophie," Nate said, irritated, "how does pushing her over help with a trust exercise?"

"Your _wife _needed to learn you would catch her, didn't she?" Sophie shrugged, feeling irrationally upset. How dare they get angry at _her _when she seemed to be the only one who cared about them completing their counselor's lessons and obtaining the annulment they both claimed they wanted?

"You're having way too much fun with this," Parker growled.

Nate decided Sophie wasn't worth dealing with at the moment. "That wasn't so bad, was it?" He asked Parker carefully.

Parker absently noted that he was still holding onto her, unsure if she was alright after being startled.

"Yes," she told him, forcing herself to step away. "It was."

To her chagrin he ignored all rules about personal space and stepped closer to her again, leaning in to whisper in her ear – so only she could hear – "I would never let you fall."

She glanced up at Nate, a question in her eyes she couldn't fully form, even to herself, before seeming to shake herself back into awareness and moving away again. He watched as she pressed a hand to the silver chain around her neck, almost without thought.

He didn't comment, though he found it odd. He'd never seen her wear jewelry before.

**XXXXXX**

TBC – reviews welcome.


	6. Chapter 6

**Disclaimer:** See chapter 1.

**Author's note:** Part 6! Not as much humor here which is solely attributable to the fact that I am a romantic at heart.

**XXXXXX**

For her part, Parker didn't realize what had changed until one day Hardison started teasing her about her and Nate's closeness. As usual, she'd taken immediate offense.

"You're delusional, Hardison," she said firmly. "Name one odd thing – a _specific _thing, not a general sense of, as you call it, 'weirdness.'"

"You slept here last night," he said, and _wow_ he'd come up with something a lot quicker than she thought he would.

"That's…how is that unusual?" Even as she said it, she pretty much already knew.

"Because you don't live together, because you're not dating. Therefore, sleeping over here is strange," Hardison said firmly.

"We were working on the latest job. It got late, and I was tired, so I slept here. What's the big deal?"

"The _big deal_," Hardison said, dragging the words out, "is that we don't have a con going on right now!"

"It was…we were working general contingency plans. You'll be thanking us the next time we need one of those to get out of a bind," Parker insisted.

"Uh huh," Hardison had skipped past skeptical and was now on outright disbelief. "You keep telling yourself that. It's still outside of the normal parameters."

Where did he _come up_ with this stuff? "Aren't you forgetting something?" Parker reminded him, "You slept over here four nights ago."

"I…oh yeah," Hardison muttered. "But there were extenuating circumstances."

Eliot couldn't resist, the guy made it way too easy. "Seeing an ex-girlfriend – which I still can't believe you have one by the way – downstairs in the bar, running up here to escape her, and then refusing to leave is not an 'extenuating circumstance.' It's called not being a man."

"Vanessa was crazy! Ca-ra-zy," Hardison enunciated. "You know why we broke up? Because she wanted me too much. I couldn't handle it anymore, she was suffocating me."

"Really? Because that's not the way Vanessa told it," Sophie hummed.

"You talked to her? Sophie!" Hardison was suspiciously close to whining as he wondered how the conversation had turned to his own issues.

"She told me that after her husband found out that you two were dating, she had to break things off. And then you tried to have her husband deported?"

"Hey!" Hardison yelled, leaping up from the sofa in his indignant outburst, "That was never proven!"

"This is why I love you," Eliot said, kissing Sophie briefly.

"As if this night weren't bad enough already," Hardison said, put out at their affection. He wandered to the kitchen, grateful that plenty of clients liked to give alcohol as gifts and though Nate didn't drink too much anymore (that night with Parker notwithstanding) he kept them on hand. He pulled out the most expensive bottle of wine he could find.

"No wonder you ran away that night," Parker looked over the back of the couch to smirk at him, and, he was sure, to otherwise mock him in any way she could.

Hardison pointed at Sophie with his wine glass. "I can't believe you just betrayed me like that. I should have gone after you when I had the chance, then you'd love me and keep my secrets, well, secret."

Sophie laughed so hard at that scenario that she almost couldn't answer him. "Good one, Hardison!"

"Dream on, Hardison," Eliot said, equally amused. "Though it would have been fun watching you try to hit on Sophie. I do say _try _because of your obvious ineptitude in that area."

"Hardison and Sophie?" Parker shook her head, and stared off into space as if picturing it. "That's _wrong_."

"More wrong than you and Nate?" Hardison pounced.

Parker glared at him. Just when she thought they'd completely forgotten about her.

"Right, we _were _talking about you before Hardison's pathetic excuse for a love-life came up," Eliot said to her.

"Nate and I are not together," Parker sighed, and why was she the only one who seemed to ever know that fact? "You know, aside from the married thing," she coughed to hide her discomfort.

"Yeah, aside from that," Hardison came back to the living room with glasses for everyone. "Parker, you know I'm the last person in the world to judge –"

"Ha!" Sophie cried, as Hardison wisely ignored her.

"However, I must know, Parker. What's going on with you two lately?"

"Nothing! How many times do I have to say it? We're _friends_." She really wished Nate were there to back her up. This _would _be the night he was meeting a potential client for dinner – though maybe that's why the other three were only confronting her now.

"You're very close for friends," Sophie was saying.

"Well," Parker thought about that, "if we were distant then...we wouldn't be friends, would we?" She hoped that made sense.

Hardison turned to Eliot and Sophie. "Come to think of it, you two are very close, as well."

"That's because we're more than friends," Eliot said. "Much more, in fact –"

"Oh come on, man," Hardison whined, downing half of his glass in record time. "Up until now I only suspected. And I was living in the bliss afforded to those who are ignorant of certain circumstances. I don't need to hear the details."

Parker watched as he refilled his glass. "Hardison, I'm not the most observant person in the world, but even I knew Eliot and Sophie were seeing each other."

"How so?" Hardison said miserably.

"Didn't the fact that we kiss all the time tip you off?" Sophie asked, genuinely curious.

"Well, friends…kiss each other…sometimes," Hardison tried to argue, though it didn't hold much weight with anyone in the room.

"Please," Parker said. "Do I go around kissing you or Eliot?"

"I certainly wouldn't object," Hardison said. "And stop changing the subject," he added. "You and Nate – strangeness abounds!"

Parker would have ignored him, except Sophie and Eliot were nodding along in agreement with Hardison's words and thus, she had to really consider if Hardison's accusations had any merit.

"You always sit next to him," Hardison was saying. "And you two seem much closer now. You always…talk to each other!"

"God forbid I talk to Nate," Parker said, rolling her eyes.

"No, it's not that," Sophie said. "It's that before you only talked about cons we were doing, but now, you talk about everything."

"So what?" Parker shrugged, as if it didn't matter, though she couldn't get rid of the increasing unease she felt at Sophie's words.

"It is different," Eliot asserted, and it must have been a hell of a change if _he _had noticed, and decided to comment on it. "You're both different now."

Parker didn't know what to make of any of this. "I don't get what is that disturbing that the three of you would notice a sudden change," she argued.

"I can't quite put my finger on it," Hardison said, distressed. "But it's something – you two agree, right?" He glanced toward Sophie and Eliot for confirmation.

"Definitely," Eliot said.

"It's a…familiarity," Sophie tried to explain. Which explained nothing at all.

Parker sighed. "I don't believe any of you."

This led to an intense debate among Sophie, Eliot, and Hardison on what exactly had changed between their two friends in the past few months. Parker tried to tune them out as best she could, though that was impossible when Hardison occasionally yelled random things like "Let's calculate their agreement to disagreement ratio!" and Eliot high-fived him, even though Parker doubted any of them even understood what that meant.

The fact that Hardison went to get several more bottles of wine didn't help matters at all.

"We've figured it out!" Hardison said to her, sometime later, as she was starting to fall asleep. He was _much _too excited.

"Feeling alright there, Hardison?" She asked him warily, but he ignored her and started reading from a piece of paper (what was this, a verdict?).

Well, she realized as he read, it might as well be for the gravity with which he pronounced it. "The three of us have concluded that the main difference between you and Nate, as opposed to before the Las Vegas trip, is that you touch each other much more often."

"This is going to be fun," Parker muttered, already dreading the rest of her evening.

"You touch each other," Sophie reiterated. "All the time!"

"That is crazy," Parker said, already knowing it was a futile effort. "We do not do anything of the sort."

"Aha!" Eliot cried, holding up a wine bottle, as if she'd proven some point. "But you do! As my lovely Sophie says, _all the time_."

Hardison nodded. "Where do you sit during briefings? Or when we go out to dinner? In fact, I'm surprised you aren't with him right now!"

Parker had to truly think about this, because she was absolutely sure they were wrong. Except…the more she thought about, the more she thought they might be on to something. She hadn't really noticed it, nor had she really cared. But now that they pointed it out, it seemed glaringly obvious. She and Nate were far too comfortable with each other, and that led to actions the others perceived as romantic.

"We're too close!" She whispered, somewhat horrified. This was _awful!_

"That's what I've been saying," Hardison declared.

"It's just…I never really thought about it," Parker admitted, though apparently she should have been.

"It's…" Hardison paused, as if to point out something especially dramatic, but it seemed more like he'd had just enough to drink to be gathering his thoughts. "…bizarre!" He finished.

"Kind of," Eliot agreed.

Parker looked to Sophie who merely shrugged, as if the fact that it was strange was something she couldn't help.

And it made Parker really consider how she acted around Nate. If the rest of them thought they were acting strange, then they _must _be. She'd have to change it. And she did.

XXXXXX

Parker had no idea how hard it would be, because she hadn't realized just how much contact she had with Nate until she started avoiding him constantly. And then she saw it, and more than that, it was _hard_ to avoid him.

It wasn't like she was all over him, but they touched each other _a lot_, casual moments here and there. Perhaps much more than before they'd accidentally gotten married. Parker hadn't thought anything of it, because it had only gradually increased the past few months. When? And how? She had no idea.

Still, she managed to stop it completely. It was hard, but she did it. (Which led to another startling observation – how much she _missed_ him.)

But the others had a point, so she stayed strong.

As for Nate, well at first, he didn't really know what was going on. All he knew was that something was…off.

It took a few weeks to figure it out.

The answer came innocuously enough one day, when he reached out to touch Parker's shoulder and direct her to the TV screens where Hardison was showing images of their latest mark.

Instead of letting her gaze be directed, as any normal person would have, she jumped the second he touched her and then dove to the other end of the couch.

It was strange. But then, he'd never been able to really classify Parker as "normal" to begin with, so he shrugged it off.

Except ten minutes later, when Eliot and Hardison got into a fight over what type of soda was the best (really, this was what he had to put up with), Eliot had thrown his empty can of Pepsi at Hardison, which triggered a shoving match. Nate had leaned over to pull Parker out of the immediate line of danger, but she jumped over the back of the couch in her haste to escape him.

That was when he knew something was going on with her. It was like he was radioactive or maybe like she thought he was going to murder her (and he'd really thought they'd put that issue to rest weeks ago).

"Is something going on, Parker?" He asked.

"Um…no?"

"Are you guessing?"

Parker merely looked at Sophie for help in trying to explain. But Sophie, damn her, kept her gaze averted.

"Parker!" Nate said, and she looked back to him guiltily.

"Nothing!" She said loudly, then realized that didn't make sense. "I mean…what?"

He got up and rounded the couch to face her. "Explain."

"There's nothing to explain," she said. He didn't miss how every time he took a step toward her, she took one away. It was a very disconcerting (and if he were being honest, troubling) turn of events.

"Are you scared of me?" He asked, concerned now. He couldn't really think of anything he might have done to upset her, but if so, he had to fix it, because if there was one thing he couldn't stand to think of, it was her actually being _afraid _of him.

"Why would I be scared of you?" She said, so quickly that the words ran together and he almost couldn't make them out. As a test, he reached out to touch her, and she quickly skirted him, jumping back onto the couch. "I'm…exhausted! I'm going to lie down."

"Parker," he said sternly, leaning over the back of the couch and looking down at her. "Start talking."

"Uh…Hardison?" She tried.

Hardison only shook his head. "See what I was saying? Weird, it's _weird_."

Sophie sighed, leaning back where she was perched on the arm of Eliot's chair. "I think we may have made things worse."

Eliot, for some reason, took pity on her. "Parker, forget what we said."

"How can I forget it?" She asked, distinctly upset. "You told me that –" she abruptly stopped talking when she remembered Nate was two feet away, watching her intently.

"Alright," he ordered, glancing at the other three in turn. "What did you tell her and why is it making her act like I have the plague?"

"We didn't say anything!" Hardison defended himself, before mumbling quickly, "You know aside from the fact that you two touch each other all the time."

"What?" Nate asked.

"We may have pointed out…that you two are much friendlier since we've returned from Las Vegas. That's all," Sophie said.

Nate glanced at Parker, who was studiously avoiding his gaze, then back to the others. "What did you say, exactly?"

"You touch each other all the time!" Hardison burst out. "We noticed."

Nate was beginning to feel quite irrationally angry. "You told her we touch each other too much? What is _wrong_ with you?"

Sophie almost felt bad. "We were just joking with her. Besides, it _is_ true."

Nate sighed, wanting to remind them that you couldn't ever _joke _with Parker because she took everything so literally. But then, they knew that already, and maybe they really had been upset by how close he and Parker seemed lately.

But if so, that was their fault, not his, and not Parker's. He glared at each of them and then joined Parker on the couch.

"Parker, everything they've told you – ignore it."

"No, Nate," she said, as if this were something extremely important. "They're right. We're too close!"

"Right now?" He asked, motioning at the four feet of space between them.

"No, in general," she huffed, crossing her arms. She hated this, because she didn't really know how to gauge normal. And if the others had thought it was strange, that meant it _must_ be strange, and it was upsetting that she hadn't picked up on that before.

Hardison was beginning to feel as if they had made a big deal out of nothing, and worse, he was feeling awful about it. "Nate's right, forget everything we said. It's none of our business what you two do."

Parker only shrugged, but she looked so miserable that Hardison wondered if she'd _ever _had a relationship with anyone where it was normal to simply hug them or casually touch them. The more he thought about it, the more he figured she probably hadn't, and if possible, that made him feel worse. Since he and the others had basically told her that the one relationship she _did _have that was that way was wrong.

"I think we should all touch each other more!" Hardison declared. "Parker, come sit with me." He held out his arms in welcome to come join him.

She stared at him like he was deranged.

"Okay, I'll come to you." He said, as he came to sit next to her on the couch and put his arm around her. "See? This is what friends do! This is comfortable, right?"

Sophie and Eliot watched in astonishment at how stiffly Hardison and Parker were sitting. "Sure looks comfortable," Eliot said, watching as Parker fought not to flee.

"Oh forget it," Hardison sighed, letting go of her.

"No…it's okay," Parker said. "You're right. I just never really had friends before…you guys. I don't know what's normal for friends."

Sophie looked stricken at the words. "Oh, Parker, you can hug any of us whenever you want to!" She cried.

"Here we go," Eliot sighed, as Sophie jumped up and went over to hug Parker.

"Yeah, thanks Sophie," Parker said, after a record two seconds. "That doesn't mean you have to smother me."

"Right," Sophie said, as she and Hardison went back to their seats.

"I can't believe I couldn't place it before," Nate said. "I knew something was different, but I didn't know what. It's that you've been avoiding me."

She looked at him apologetically, but then her eyes couldn't quite meet his as she went back to scanning the room. "I didn't know what else to do."

"Parker," he said quietly, "no one's saying what you _have_ to do with anyone else. How close you are with anyone, that's _your choice_."

"Yeah," she said, more to herself than anyone else. She got the feeling he was more than aware that for most of her childhood, contact with other people had _not _been her choice and it most certainly had not been pleasant. She'd had more than her fair share of bruises back then to prove it.

And now things were much, much different.

She glanced up to see Nate watching her so closely that she instinctively wanted to look away, but couldn't. It was as if he were trying to determine what would scare her, and to see that much consideration in someone else, directed at her? It was…well it was something she'd never known.

He shrugged as if to say whatever she did was fine with him.

And that was what made her spring herself at him and hug him for all she was worth.

Until that moment he hadn't realized, in the past few weeks, how much he'd missed her.

"Sorry, Nate," she whispered into his shoulder, and he didn't answer – but then from the way he hugged her back, he didn't have to.

"Oh man, oh man – this is so emotionally moving," Hardison said, his voice shaking slightly. He looked at Eliot and Sophie who were shaking their heads at him. "You two are heartless!"

Parker pulled back from Nate but then settled onto the couch next to him, as his arm went around her without any thought on his part.

"Hardison, pull yourself together," she ordered, feeling unexpectedly happy for a reason she couldn't quite name. Or maybe didn't want to name.

Hardison cleared his throat and then went back to explaining what had brought them to Nate's apartment in the first place.

Parker listened and tried desperately not to fall asleep. Nate started talking about his latest plan and she listened more to the tone of his voice than the actual words. When he explained what she'd have to do, she tilted her head back to look at him, and the thought struck her, with terrifying force, that this wouldn't last forever.

Because they were going to get divorced and while they'd still be on the same team, she didn't expect him to stay single forever. He'd move on and find someone he loved, and whoever he ended up with would certainly _not _like the fact that Parker preferred to sit with him like this during their briefings. She tried to imagine Nate dating someone, or touching someone, or _marrying _someone who…was not her.

She should be separating herself from him. She _should _have been taking the others' advice and trying to stay away from him, to distance herself, so that when the inevitable happened – him moving on – she wouldn't get hurt. Only she couldn't do that.

It wasn't that she didn't know _how_ to do this without him. It was that she didn't _want _to do any of this without him.

She wondered what he'd say if he knew that. She suspected it was something she wouldn't like, because she knew he didn't love her. What's more, she didn't _want _him to love her.

You couldn't love someone just because you accidentally got married to them! It was crazy. Worse than crazy. Incomprehensible.

She fiddled with her necklace, and Nate asked if she agreed with something she hadn't heard him say, and she realized, for the first time, that it didn't matter how she should or shouldn't feel, because that had _nothing _to do with how she actually felt. It was a terrible realization, indeed.

**XXXXXX**

TBC – I'll try to bring back more humor as I near the end of the story – I do have it pretty much done, the problem is I have to connect the final sections together, which is harder than it sounds, but it will get done!


	7. Chapter 7

**Disclaimer:** See chapter 1.

**Author's note:** Sorry it's been a bit slow going but to all who wonder, and have missed my 100 other notes to this effect – everything I write will be finished.

**XXXXXX**

Parker flipped through the endless pages that Dr. Foster had sent home with her this week. "I thought we were done with these," she complained, more to herself than Nate, but he answered anyways.

"Correction, _I'm _done with them because I know how to manage my time effectively."

"How does me – or anyone – knowing their spouse's favorite color help their marriage?" Parker asked with genuine confusion as she looked through the 10-page questionnaire she'd been putting off forever. Their appointment was in exactly two hours – no time like the present.

Nate kept flipping through channels. He'd done his questions six days earlier. Another reason to hate him (the list was getting extraordinarily long). "I assume it shows that we…talk to each other?"

"And here I thought that not talking would be more effective at keeping a marriage intact," she muttered.

Nate thought for a moment. "You may have a point there."

"Your favorite color is...black," she said, filling it in.

"That's what I put for you," he told her.

"'What most attracts you to your partner?' This woman has got to be kidding," Parker grumbled.

"My charm? My looks? My intelligence? You have so many options for that one."

Parker rolled her eyes and put 'not applicable.' Nate leaned over and read her answer with amusement. "Dr. Foster is going to have a field day with your answers."

"Good, maybe she'll finally believe that none of this was our intention. Hey, Nate, totally random question off the top of my head – where do you see yourself in ten years?"

"Cheater. And you only have yourself to blame for this, remember what happened last time Foster gave you a relationship quiz?"

"You mean when I set it on fire? In my defense…I was bored."

Nate looked at her incredulously. Okay, in hindsight that wasn't the best defense. And she probably shouldn't have done it in Foster's waiting room, considering it set off the fire alarms. "Shockingly," he said, "that's not the time to which I'm referring. Remember the last questionnaire that you _didn't _destroy?"

The second she realized what he meant, she cringed. It was three weeks before. Having become completely bored with Dr. Foster's 'homework requirements,' (and realizing that continued refusal to answer them would just result in _more _questions and the very real threat of refusing to sign off that they'd finished the course), Parker had deliberately filled in fake answers.

Unfortunately, through _absolutely_ _no fault of her own_, (which Nate for some reason would not acknowledge), the answers seemed to imply she'd perhaps loved Nate forever, and only further convinced their counselor that there was a relationship between them that could be salvaged. Or as Foster put it, a relationship that could be 'renewed and reinvigorated once you recall the passion and love which your former selves felt for each other.'

Surprisingly Nate hadn't been furious, as she would have been had he pulled the same stunt. He merely lied right along with her, telling her later that they may as well play along because they were forced to do it, and this way at least it was entertaining.

Now, though, Parker regretted it because it only made Foster that much more vehement that they go along with her rules and try to 'rekindle the flames of their passion.' Honestly, they were both convinced the woman would benefit from a psychiatrist herself.

Parker focused once more on the questions. A few sections she was able to answer from making educated guesses based on having known Nate for two years and learning things about him purely by accident (she'd certainly never admit she'd been paying attention).

However, there were other parts that were infinitely harder. For example, the section she was now stuck on contained questions about how _she _viewed her spouse. What did she like about him, dislike about him, _love _and _hate _about him. And even more personal questions that had she been able to answer, she wouldn't have wanted to.

Like the question which had made her pause. _When do you feel you fell in love with your spouse?_

She sighed, frustrated. She couldn't put 'not applicable' for every answer. She'd tried that tactic once, already, and Foster had retaliated by asking her to come in for a one-on-one session. She wouldn't suffer through that again if she could avoid it.

She dropped the papers in her lap and turned to look at Nate who sat next to her on the couch. He'd given up on TV and was now reading through a file Hardison had given him earlier, though she wasn't sure what it contained. Something for a job maybe? Whatever it was, he was completely absorbed in it.

His distraction allowed her to watch him without fear of getting caught. She'd taken to watching him lately. She didn't know why.

Or maybe she did.

It hit her sometimes when she looked at him. That sudden instant, the surreal moment, where she would think: _I'm married to him. We're married to each other. When the hell did that happen, and how, and why?_

No matter how many times she had the 'realization,' it continued to astound her. As if it would never fully sink in because of how bizarre and unreal it was. Her mind would never accept it.

And yet there it was, not a secret, right in front of her, impossible to avoid and visible to everyone.

"If you keep procrastinating, you're never going to get those done," he said, startling her. He hadn't even looked up from the file. She didn't know he was aware of her gaze. Though, of course he would be. She should never expect anything less – after all, one of the last things people would accuse him of was being unobservant.

"It'd be for the best," she told him, shaking herself from her thoughts. She skimmed the sheet in front of her and picked a question entirely at random. "Come on, Nate. 'What do you like best about your partner?' There is literally no answer I can put for that question."

"Too many answers to choose only one?" he asked, and she knew from his tone that he was only amused. "And wait…why are you asking me to give you answers to questions that ask _your _opinion? It's not like these are asking you to figure out what I think."

"You finally noticed that, huh?" She sighed, throwing her head back in frustration to stare at the ceiling.

"Parker," he asked seriously, "what's going on?"

Rather than answer him, she decided a subject change (which just coincidentally happened to be related to another question) might be in order. "You never wanted to get married again? Why?" She asked, ready to record the answer.

It took a moment for Nate to understand what she was talking about. She was referring to their session when he'd told Dr. Foster that after Maggie, he knew he'd never want to marry another woman.

And then he'd gone and done it anyways.

"Being married the first time around was hard enough," he shrugged. "I had no desire to go through it again."

"Mmhmm," Parker said noncommittally, writing down his answer word for word in response to 'What are your spouse's feelings on the general subject of marriage?'

"Parker, I know what you're doing," he complained.

"And you still let me get away with it," she said, finishing her dictation and glancing at him.

He rolled his eyes and sank further into the couch. At this point he didn't really care what she put for the questions, but he still felt obligated to pretend that he did.

"I guess I understand how you felt," she said slowly, and it took him a minute to realize she was replying to his views on marriage. "But I was one step ahead of you. It didn't take me getting married to realize that."

"What did getting married teach you, then?" He asked, amused.

"Aside from don't ever get married in Las Vegas while completely drunk?" She smirked. "I can't really say. I suppose…it hasn't been as bad as I imagined it might be."

He stared at her in astonishment, partly real, partly feigned. "Are you saying it's not the worst thing in the world being married to me? I never thought I'd see the day!"

"I'm saying there are worse things," she hedged. "Very _few _worse things, but worse things nonetheless."

He shook his head and nudged her arm with his elbow. "You don't fool me, Parker."

"I never tried to, Nate," she said. Off his look of disbelief, she sighed. "Alright, maybe I tried to, but not as often as with anyone else. That counts for something right?"

He pulled her closer when she put her head on his shoulder. "It counts for a lot," he said quietly.

"This is too hard," she murmured, and he didn't know what she was referring to – the questions Foster had given her or…something more.

He chose to believe it was about Foster's requirements. He sat up straighter and pulled away from her a bit so he could look at her fully and focus his full attention on her. "Parker, it's not a test. We're not being graded."

"It doesn't feel that way," she said darkly. In response to his pulling away, she moved as well, toward the other end of the couch so she could stretch out her legs. She stared at her feet, where they almost reached his lap. "Foster is waiting to fail us, can't you feel it?"

He wondered why this was giving her so much trouble. "Maybe it would help if you looked at this another way. Stop thinking of it as a test about marriage, but as questions about our friendship. Would that make it easier?"

She looked at him warily but turned back to the questions and started substituting 'friend' every time she saw the word 'spouse' or 'partner.' Surprisingly, it did seem to help. "Yeah, I think that does work," she smiled slightly.

"Good," he reached to pick up the file again, but stopped when she threw her pencil at him.

"I still have to fill them out, this is going to take hours!"

He picked up the pencil and put it back in her hand, but he didn't let go of it, or her. "You're going to have to deal with it and put in the time. Don't expect me to come up with excuses for you when Dr. Foster learns you didn't do the homework. Again."

She froze momentarily before gathering herself and pulling her hand away. "You wouldn't save me? Typical." She tapped the pencil against the papers, as if maybe it would come up with satisfactory answers.

"I only loved you enough to marry you," he said lightly. "Not enough to jump in front of Foster for you."

She looked up at him sharply but he had picked up the file again and gone back to reading. What was she to make of that?

Nothing, she supposed. He was only joking.

She went back to the question that had originally given her pause, mulling it over in her head. _When do you feel you fell in love with your spouse?_

In a fit of uncharacteristic whimsy – purely to give Foster something to analyze, perhaps – she wrote, 'Too many instances to count.'

_Crazy. You're crazy, _she whispered in her own head as she re-read it.

Ten seconds later, Nate glanced her way, wondering what had made her cross out an answer so violently that it tore a hole in the paper.

XXXXXX

"Nate," she said, "you know that list I'm keeping in my head of reasons that I hate you? I'm rapidly running out of room."

He shot her an amused glance and then turned back to watch the people on the dance floor. "I don't know, Parker, I think this is what happy couples do – attend events together and pretend to like it."

"Pretend to like each other, you mean," she complained. "Why, _why _did you tell Foster we'd come to this?"

They were at one of Dr. Katherine Foster's fundraisers for under-privileged children, and though Parker was all for helping kids, she didn't think it fair to have to put herself through torture for such a cause.

"I told her we'd attend because it's for a good cause," Nate said simply, as if that were the only reason he needed. Well, maybe it was the only answer _he _needed, but her? He should have known better.

"I've never been to an event like this without working," she protested, as he blatantly ignored the unhappiness in her voice. Could she put his ignoring her on her mental list? Or did attending this fundraiser encompass everything about it that she could complain about? No, she decided, she could put every specific thing she thought of, because that made her feel better.

She gratefully accepted a glass of champagne from a passing waiter and ordered him to keep it coming. Anything to get through this night.

"It's fun isn't it?" Nate asked.

Parker graced him with a scathing glance. He couldn't be serious. As if sensing her disagreement, he pulled her onto the dance floor before she could register enough to protest. She just barely downed her glass on the way and managed to hand it off (to a guest instead of a waiter, but oh well).

"Ease up there," he said as they started to dance, and though she'd never been particularly good at it, she had to admit it wasn't _that _hard if she simply relaxed and let him lead. Which she did solely to avoid a scene. After all, Foster would probably punish them in their next session if she made a scene. Considering her scenes generally involved stabbing people, setting fires, or other things equally unacceptable (to local law enforcement, at least).

They danced in silence for a few minutes before Parker spoke again. "It's different. Without having something to steal or someone to con, it's –"

"Relaxing?" He offered.

"I was going to say boring."

He tugged gently on her hair so that she looked up and met his eyes. "My, it takes a lot to keep you entertained."

"Can't I just take a few wallets? For practice."

"No," he said firmly and Parker sighed heavily.

"As if you'd know if I did."

"I'd know," he warned.

And at those words she felt she had to prove a point. She deftly reached into his coat pocket, about to take his own wallet when – he grabbed her hand firmly.

"Don't think I don't know you by now," he said. "We _are _married."

She started to sulk. "Marriage really _does _take the fun out of everything!"

"If I can feel it, you can do better," he encouraged. "I think you're off your game."

She perked up a bit at his advice. "I'll keep that in mind," she said, reluctantly pulling her hand back, though her mind now spun with dozens of ways she could get him back. "Besides," she added, "you knew me before we were married which means you have an unfair advantage."

"And I fully intend to use it," he informed her. "Don't try anything – and I mean anything," he said as he spun her away from him in time with the music, and she was so startled she simultaneously let go of and pulled away from his hold, causing her to fall against the man behind them.

"Sorry, my husband pushed me," Parker apologized, when the couple turned to see who had run into them. Nate quickly grabbed her arm and pulled her back.

"Making me look like an abuser is not the soundest strategy either," he told her.

"Bringing me to this function counts as abuse," she sulked.

Before he could answer, Foster took center stage. "Alright everyone!" Their counselor announced, having seized a microphone right as the song ended. "Now it's time to swap partners! We're here to make friends, remember? Find someone you'd like to get to know and bring them on the dance floor – no couples allowed together. That's cheating. Remember, I'm watching!"

"What?" Parker yelled in Foster's general direction. She was supposed to dance with a _stranger_? She turned to Nate accusingly, "It's bad enough I have to be here with _you_! But I also have to entertain someone else? _Now _tell me it's not abuse!"

He would have replied except the couple next to them had split up and the woman eagerly pulled him into dancing with her. Nate shrugged apologetically and accompanied the other woman to the dance floor.

While Parker thought of numerous ways to cause him severe pain for abandoning her (even if it was against his will), the woman's partner approached her. "I can't leave a lovely young lady such as yourself out here alone," he said gallantly, but he wasn't looking at her. His eyes were fixed on his wife dancing with Nate.

"Oh save it," she muttered, though she reluctantly accepted his arm and once again she was dancing.

And wouldn't luck have it, she was dancing with one of the most insecure, jealous men in the room. "Your husband and my wife sure look cozy, don't they?"

"Huh? What?" Parker scanned the floor to find Nate and the other woman dancing along with everyone else, but they didn't look exceptionally close to her.

"That's Caroline. Always trying to make me jealous. I've told her it doesn't work, but does she listen to me? No, she doesn't. She never listens to me."

Parker shifted uncomfortably, but the man went from casually jealous to near ranting over the next ten minutes. It stung, it really did. Here she was dancing with an attractive man and he was more interested in Nate than her. Finally Parker wrenched herself away from him. "Enough of this," she muttered, as she tried to flag down a passing waiter, who she was sure purposely ignored her. Why? She had no idea, but she automatically decided Nate must be at fault for that, too.

She turned back to the dance floor where Nate had let go of Caroline the second her husband approached and backed away as they started fighting.

Dr. Foster grabbed the microphone again. "That went well – Caroline, David, would you two stop – thank you. Now it's time for me to introduce our special guest this evening. He's a relationship expert who might know more than me, if that's possible! He currently lives and practices in New York, where he's working on his first highly-anticipated book, please welcome Dr. Raymond Carrell!"

"There's more of them?" Parker asked as Nate came to stand next to her. "I can barely take Foster, now she wants us to listen to the boring lectures of someone else?"

"Give him a chance, maybe you could…" Nate trailed off as they saw the man joining Dr. Foster at the front of the room. "Learn something," he finished dryly.

"I'm going to kill him. I say that a lot, I know, but this time, I'm really going to do it," Parker seethed as Hardison shook their counselor's hand.

**XXXXXX**

TBC – I just have to bring the others back into it again, do let me know what you think.


	8. Chapter 8

**Disclaimer:** See chapter 1.

**XXXXXX**

Parker didn't hear most of what Hardison told the crowd because she was too busy fuming and trying to approach him, except Nate stopped her every time. She did catch one thing, though.

"What the hell's a _psychic _relationship coach?" She demanded.

"Something that doesn't actually exist," Nate murmured, as Hardison announced he needed volunteers from the crowd to demonstrate his 'highly-advanced' methods. He was on a slightly elevated stage at the front of the room. Which unfortunately meant that from his vantage point, he could easily see her through the crowd; it made hiding nearly impossible.

When Eliot and Sophie stepped forward, Parker wasn't the least surprised, though she hadn't seen them at the party before now. If she had, she would have found the nearest exit.

"Thank you for your bravery," Hardison told them as they waved at the crowd. "But I need one more couple." He ignored at least two dozen raised hands to pretend to read from a note card.

Parker scanned the room for an escape route that avoided both Hardison and Foster. "They're doing this to mess with us," she lamented.

"How about Mr. and Mrs. Nathan Ford. They sound like a solid couple. Are they in the crowd tonight?" Hardison waved the card around.

"What tipped you off?" Nate asked her, as Foster eagerly pointed them out to Hardison, having no idea that he already knew them.

"Alright don't be shy," Hardison motioned them forward to join him on stage. Sophie and Eliot sat in chairs to his left, and she and Nate were directed to chairs on his right. "Now my method involves the psychic connection between two minds. Impossible, you say? You'd be wrong. Couples that are truly in love can connect with each other on a higher plane. You can read about this in depth in my upcoming book, _Psychic Love_, due out December 14th – right in time for the holiday season. Mark your calendars, people. It makes a great gift for your significant other."

"Nothing says 'I love you' like a relationship advice book," Sophie chimed in happily.

Parker leaned toward Nate. "If you buy that for me, I'm divorcing you."

He seemed confused. "You're _already_ divorcing me."

"Oh, right," Parker muttered. Damn Nate and how he always made sense.

Hardison continued talking about the people he'd helped 'over the years.' "I have counseled thousands of happy couples who will personally attest to the fact that my methods are not only unique, but highly effective."

"How can you have counseled _thousands _of couples?" Parker accused loudly, "That's logistically impossible!"

"Oh, we have a math major here!" Hardison said, addressing the audience. "I'll have you know that…I'm speaking of those who have written to me to say that the studies and articles I've published have helped their relationships."

Parker would have gladly continued arguing, except Nate, who sat between her and Hardison, shook his head slightly, in an obvious plea. She'd give in for now, but only on the hope that it would make whatever Hardison had planned finish more quickly.

Nate was thankful for small favors, but knew he'd gotten lucky. Any peace between her and Hardison – even one he tried to enforce – probably wouldn't last long.

"Please, ignore those who doubt you and go on," Eliot said smoothly, as if he were dying to hear what Hardison had to say.

"I've set up a simple demonstration," Hardison said, handing Eliot and Nate some blank sheets of paper.

When Hardison was within striking distance, Parker took the opportunity to pull on his tie and drag the 'relationship expert' closer. "What are you doing?" She hissed, her question directed at all three of them.

"This is silk," Hardison gasped, trying to disentangle his clothing from her.

"I would appreciate if you didn't interrupt the demonstration," Eliot told her, as Hardison managed to yank his tie out of her grasp. He made a great show of brushing off his clothing while watching her disapprovingly.

"Hardison," Nate said, part warning, part question, and to Parker's increasing anger, Hardison immediately looked contrite. Why did Nate command that kind of respect and she got ignored? Was violence not always the best way to go?

"Relax, Nate," Hardison whispered, turning partially so the crowd couldn't hear what he was saying. "Don't ruin this for me! And believe me, I'm doing this for your own good. Ya'll are gonna thank me later."

"If by 'thank you' what you really mean is 'throw you off a' –" Parker began, before Hardison interrupted her by addressing the others.

"Now, Eliot and Sophie, was it? Let's begin with you. Eliot, think of a color, and Sophie, I want you to close your eyes and focus on connecting to your husband's mind – feel his energy, if you will. And to prove this isn't a trick, I'll ask you to jot it down on this paper. Ready?"

They did as he asked, with Sophie thinking for a minute before she said, "Teal."

Eliot showed his paper to the crowd, on which he had in fact written 'teal.' "Teal! It was teal, that's amazing. Isn't my wife amazing?" Eliot gushed, as he wrapped his arm around Sophie who waved obligingly at the crowd.

"They're so _lying_!" Parker cried as everyone turned to her.

"Alright, let's try with the Ford's. It may be a bit harder because unlike this loving couple to my left, I sense a lot of negativity surrounding you two…we can see why you're in counseling!" Hardison joked, as Nate fixed him with a glare. "Okay moving on, that's why I'm here, to help you. Jot down a color, Nate – and make sure it's not your favorite color or your wife's favorite – I don't want there to be any questions about this test."

Nate rolled his eyes but did as he was asked, solely to avoid a further scene (although with the five of them demonstrating a fake relationship exercise, he didn't know what could possibly make things worse).

"What color do you think your husband chose?" Hardison asked Parker.

She was sitting in mute rebellion, arms crossed and glare fixed right on Hardison. She thought of all the ways she could murder him without leaving any evidence. But none of them really worked when you factored in a crowd of over a hundred people watching. Not unless she could slip him an untraceable drug that would cause cardiac arrhythmia or –

"Parker!" Hardison said, drawing her back to the present. "I'm doing this for you. _Both _of you." He stressed.

She still regarded him warily but was there a hint of…sincerity in his voice? He couldn't _possibly _believe he was helping them in any way, could he? She was sure she must be imagining it, because it made no sense, and yet, for some reason, it made her decide to simply play along and put off her revenge for a later date (maybe that was too optimistic – a later hour, then).

"Fine," she sighed reluctantly, turning to Nate. What might he have possibly written? "Black."

"Let's see," Hardison said, with too much joy, as Nate flipped the paper. "Oh, ouch! Your husband put saffron, which could actually be two colors. Either golden yellow, or dark red, but no matter the color, it's also a delightful seasoning to many a dish. Sorry, Parker."

"Saffron? You seriously put _saffron_?" She couldn't believe it. "Who would guess that!"

"Not you," Sophie tsked, sounding saddened that the other couple didn't share in the same 'psychic bond' she and Eliot had.

"He said not to put something obvious," Nate said, in self-defense.

"And you _listened_?" She accused, "To _Raymond Carrell?_ Why didn't you put, I don't know, blue?"

"If I'd put blue, you wouldn't have gotten it," he pointed out, "seeing as you guessed black."

"I hate it when you have a point," she complained.

"Let's try it in reverse," Hardison urged. The crowd watched with fascination as Eliot correctly guessed that Sophie had put 'cerulean' as her color. "You two are on fire!" Hardison said, thrilled, as the two of them high-fived.

Parker furiously scribbled on her own sheet of paper.

"Writing a novel, there?" Hardison asked. "Better leave that to the experts – like me!" The crowd shared in his laughter, further grating on Parker's nerves.

Nate had no idea what she might have put. "Red? No, black. No, red. Black!"

Hardison ran his hands over his face in exasperation. "Redblack is not a color. Nor is blackred. Parker?"

She flipped her paper over to reveal what she'd written.

"_Nate will never guess this right_," Nate read to the crowd. "Sounds like you have a lot of faith in me."

"I was right, wasn't I?" She argued.

"Since you didn't technically guess a color, there was no way he'd have gotten it," Eliot pointed out.

"Who asked you?" She snapped.

"Let's move on to another question to see if this was a fluke," Hardison urged. "Eliot, put down the first television show that comes into your head – not your favorite or Sophie's favorite, but simply the first thing you think of."

"I can do that, Dr. Carrell," Eliot said confidently.

Sophie thought for a moment. "_Gunsmoke_. It has to be _Gunsmoke_."

"_Gunsmoke_!" Eliot said flipping over his paper in triumph as the crowd started whistling and clapping in encouragement.

"Man, you two are like, right there!" Hardison said, holding up his hand to his own head, presumably in demonstration of how connected Eliot and Sophie were.

"Which leads me to the Ford's…Nate, you have the floor. First TV show, write it now."

Parker tried to surreptitiously watch what Nate was writing down, but Hardison stepped between them.

"Um…" she sighed. She truly had no idea what he would put, and furthermore, since she _knew _that Eliot and Sophie had arranged this beforehand with Hardison, she was finding it extraordinarily unfair. "_The Office_?" She guessed.

Nate shook his head and flipped over his paper.

"_Meet the Press_?" Parker nearly shrieked. "What are you, 85? And does that even qualify as a TV show? And if so, I have never once seen you watch it!"

"He said the first one that came to mind," Nate protested, "not one that I watch. Besides, I saw Bob Schieffer give an interview on CNN the other day. It came to me!"

"Bob Schieffer hosts _Face the Nation_," Sophie reminded him.

"How would I know?" Nate defended himself. "I don't watch it!"

Hardison surveyed them with pity, before turning once more to the crowd. "Obviously these two have not read any of my studies or been counseled by me, but they _can _read my book, _Psychic Love _– due out December 14th. Now, to those in the crowd who do not believe in psychic phenomena, fret not, that's actually a very small part of my book. In fact, most of what many would attribute to being 'psychic' is actually a very deep, subconscious awareness of your spouse. I urge you all to place orders today."

Foster nodded along in agreement as Hardison kept talking and Parker glared at Nate once more in silent chastisement that he'd played along with this obvious ploy. He shrugged, as if he were completely helpless in the entire situation.

She was sure that Hardison had other increasingly ridiculous questions lined up, but she took the opportunity to get off-stage and go get something to eat – if she had to be here, at least she could get free food for it. Nate wasn't far behind her.

"I'm beginning to seriously doubt the credentials of Dr. Katherine Foster," Parker whispered, as they watched her fawn all over Hardison.

"Yeah in hindsight, we might have been better served to keep looking," Nate agreed.

Hardison took his time mingling with the crowd, though Parker figured that no matter how much he enjoyed the attention, he was equally enjoying that it gave him an excuse to avoid her and Nate as long as possible.

When he finally found himself next to them, he turned to try and slip away again, but Eliot and Sophie appeared, blocking his way. He reluctantly turned back. "Nate and Parker, was it? I think y'all need my card. If you're ever in New York –" Parker took the card he offered and ripped it up. "This repressed rage is something I think I can help you with."

"What _was_ that?" Nate demanded, gesturing in the general direction of the stage.

Hardison sighed and motioned for them to lower their voices. "Look, one of my other identities happens to be a relationship counselor. I actually was one, for a time, a couple years ago. Then I had to go into hiding from, well, the federal government."

"For what?" Parker asked suspiciously. "Taking advantage of gullible people in their time of need?"

"The less said, the better," Hardison insisted, glancing around to see if anyone was listening to their conversation. "In any event, I learned a lot about being a therapist. I enjoyed it. When you told me about this fundraiser sponsored by Dr. Katherine Foster and how she was requiring you to attend as part of your counseling…I couldn't resist. I called her and told her I'd read her recent book and would love to come. She ate it up."

"So you're deluding all these people just to what, aggravate us?" Nate asked.

"Pretty much," Eliot said, answering for him. "Isn't it hilarious?"

"Hey, not just that," Hardison insisted. "It's also for the free publicity."

Sophie frowned in obvious disagreement, "Don't sell yourself short, Hardison!" She turned to Nate. "Hardison actually knows what he's talking about…sort of. I read his website. Very tastefully done, by the way. I especially liked the testimonials – are those real people?"

"Uh, sure," Hardison told her, then turned back to Nate. "I'm not deluding anyone! I told you, I liked being a psychiatrist and I did just complete my first book on relationships. It really is called _Psychic Love_. I wasn't lying about that." Nate and Parker stared at him blankly. "I do have other hobbies aside from sitting in front of computers all day," he added defensively.

"And if I'm to believe you…it's about the subconscious connection between couples that is so uncanny, some might label it psychic," Parker managed to get out, her tone strangled, whether from trying not to laugh or simply from mere horror at the concept, she couldn't say.

"Exactly!" Hardison said enthusiastically. "Finally someone gets it!"

"You actually wrote a book," Nate paused to gather himself, "about psychic bonds in couples?"

Hardison nodded, looking extremely proud of himself. "I mean, it's not _all _about psychic connections, as I mentioned in my speech, it's about the bond that can form between loving couples."

"Like us," Sophie said, smiling, as she patted Eliot on the arm.

"And _not _you," Eliot added, looking from Nate to Parker and back again (as if it needed to be clarified).

"I can be loving," Parker argued, though her angry tone and demeanor suggested quite the opposite.

"Really?" Hardison asked skeptically.

"If I want to!" She insisted. "Nate?"

When he didn't say anything she turned to him, none too happy. At her look he shrugged. "Was I supposed to back you up on that or something?"

Hardison held up his book. "Advance copy right here. I'm giving it to you two free of charge. You need it." Sophie and Eliot nodded in agreement.

Nate took it and flipped to the back cover where he was greeted by a smiling picture of Hardison in a white coat with framed degrees behind him. "Suddenly Parker and I getting married _isn't _the strangest thing to have happened this year," he muttered. "Who'd have thought anything could top it?"

Parker was still watching Hardison with disapproval. "You do realize that is the worst concept for a book I have ever heard? Who's going to believe that? It's not real!"

"You can't completely disprove psychic connections," Hardison defended himself. "Besides I needed a twist to sell my book. Do you know how many relationship books are out there? Thousands!"

"You're making money off of people's suffering," Parker told him.

"No, I'm helping people save the most important things in their lives – their relationships. I haven't had any complaints from anyone and I swear, for some couples, their connections are so close that even if they can't technically be described as psychic, they come as close to psychic as we might ever get. Despite how you think my coming here tonight was just to annoy you, I do actually care about people who need help with their relationships."

Parker stared at him for a long moment. "You're telling the truth. I don't believe it."

"I earned a doctorate in psychiatry –" he paused at Nate and Parker's skeptical looks, "Okay, forged a doctorate in psychiatry to help people. It's what I do. You two could probably benefit from –"

"Finish that sentence if you want to get knocked unconscious by your own book," Parker told him, wrenching it from Nate's hands.

Hardison took a few steps back. "Try to help people and this is what I get?"

"Just…" Nate held his hands out, pleading. "Let it go."

"Let it go?" Hardison argued, "Nate the woman threatened me with severe bodily harm! All because I saw a genuine need in your relationship and offered my expert advice – free of charge, by the way. I don't offer that to everyone."

Parker started to leave, deciding she'd had enough for one night.

"Fine, be that way," Hardison called to her back. "I'll see you on Wednesday."

His words froze her in her tracks. "What did you say?" She asked, without turning around.

"I said I'll see you on Wednesday."

Parker turned back to them. "That's a joke, right? _Right_?"

"Actually, Dr. Foster has kindly invited me to a group session this week…" Hardison said, his words trailing off when he saw how badly Parker reacted.

"As if this night weren't bad enough, now you'll be there for our weekly session, too?" She hissed, not missing his amusement. He thought this was _funny_.

"Okay, Parker," Nate said, stepping between her and Hardison. "We're going to go to the other side of the room and Hardison is going to stay away from you for the rest of the night. In fact, he's going to be leaving. Right, Hardison?"

"Actually, Nate, there's still a lot more people left to talk to so if you wouldn't mind –" He broke off, seeing the look on Nate's face and hastily agreed he'd make himself scarce. "See you at the roundtable discussion!"

"Roundtable –" Parker snapped, before gathering herself. "He thinks it's a joke. This whole thing is nothing more than amusement for him and Sophie and Eliot. Don't they realize that…" She had no idea where she was going with that statement, because she really didn't know how to express what she felt. Maybe because she didn't _know _what she felt. The only thing she was sure of was how angry she was at them.

"It'll be fine," Nate assured her, sensing she needed some time to wind down. He linked his arm with hers and pulled her closer until she had to either lean against him or lose her balance. "We're almost done with the sessions anyways. I'll talk to them before this week's session. Don't worry about it."

As she was about to reply, Foster appeared. "Hi you two!" She greeted them cheerfully. "That was a fun demonstration, wasn't it? Dr. Carrell is a gifted psychiatrist. Did he tell you that he'll be with us for the next session? I think we can all benefit from his years of experience."

She sounded absurdly happy, and when Parker tensed, Nate said quickly, "I think we're going to…go somewhere else." He led Parker to a corner far away from their psychiatrist, grateful when he saw no sign of their other three team members nearby, either.

"A nightmare," Parker moaned, to no one in particular. "I thought it was bad before, but now, I realize how great we had it. Foster's clearly inept since she had someone who specializes in something that doesn't _exist _come in to guest lecture us, and now we have to deal with Hardison at our regular session?"

"It could be worse," Nate said, trying to be helpful.

"How?" She challenged.

"Well…" he desperately thought, taking back the book she still held and holding it up to emphasize his point. "You could have married Hardison! A few months ago you thought that would have been a better alternative, and now? See what you would have been stuck with? Raymond Carrell, psychic love expert."

"God," she sighed. "You have a valid point! That's how I know things have really spiraled out of control."

"Wait until Wednesday," he said cheerfully, then winced as she slammed the nearest exit door open without any regard to the fact that she'd set off the emergency alarm.

**XXXXXX**

TBC – I swear I'm near the end – one more chapter, two at the most. Love to all readers and reviewers.


	9. Chapter 9

**Disclaimer: **See chapter 1.

**Author's Note: **This was going to be the last chapter, but it got too long, so there is one more final part which will be posted within a matter of days.

**XXXXXX**

Despite her fervent wishing, Wednesday came anyways, exactly when it was supposed to – after Tuesday, and before Thursday. And even though she'd changed Nate's calendar to try and make him forget about the appointment, he found her (admittedly, she hadn't made it too hard since she'd been sitting on his couch at the time), and dragged her with him to what would surely be the Session From Hell.

She was surprised to see Sophie and Eliot weren't the only other couple. No, Foster had invited _four _other couples as well. Apparently she felt that the expertise of Raymond Carrell had to be spread among as many people as possible.

"Isn't this great, guys?" Eliot enthused, slapping Nate on the shoulder. "Strengthening our relationships! These are the lessons that will last a lifetime."

She wondered how their friends had ingratiated themselves with Foster, but decided it was probably as simple as signing up for some couple's therapy. And Hardison? Foster couldn't love him _that _much, it simply wasn't possible. She guessed that the woman simply wanted to have her name mentioned in his next book (and Parker had no doubt there would be another book, and it would probably be as completely crazy as the first).

"Don't mind me," Hardison said, "I'm only here to observe." He let his gaze linger on Nate and Parker for a minute. "Unless I'm needed, of course. I have a feeling I might be!"

"We welcome any astute observations!" Dr. Foster said. "We're honored to have such a devoted researcher with us today, aren't we, everyone?" The rest of the class clapped in agreement as Parker stared up at the ceiling, wishing herself away.

"Let's begin by going around the circle," Foster said. "Each person is going to say three nice things or compliments about their partner."

Eliot started. He gushed about how Sophie was beautiful, sophisticated, and caring. Sophie replied that Eliot was determined, persistent, and never gave up. Foster applauded their 'genuine expression of emotion' and Parker pointed out that what Sophie had said were three different ways of saying the same thing.

"Please," Hardison said from the corner, "keep the negativity to a minimum. I've found that all it does is keep us from connecting fully with our partners."

Parker thought that he must have felt really brave over there, out of her immediate reach. Maybe he forgot she could still throw things?

Unfortunately, before she could start any kind of brawl, Foster turned to her. "You can go next, Parker."

She stared at the psychiatrist blankly as her mind raced. What was she supposed to say?

She must have frozen for longer than she thought, because Sophie decided to 'help.' "Come on, it's easy to think of only three things when you love someone!"

She was drawing a complete blank though. Not that she couldn't think of anything to say, but how could she say anything to _him_? He might think she was secretly in love with him, or worse. Wait, what would be worse?

"I'll go," Nate said calmly, sensing her panic. "Three compliments to describe my wi – Parker." He stared at her thoughtfully for a few moments.

"Make sure they're from the heart," Hardison said, pressing his hand to his own chest and repeating dramatically, "from the heart."

Eliot nodded, because apparently that was the best advice he'd ever heard, while Foster said something again about how lucky they were to have him visiting, as if sharing a room with him was a great honor.

Parker was beginning to suspect that Foster liked Dr. Raymond Carrell a little _too _much, and she had to keep them away from each other _at all costs_. A future where Hardison was dating her former therapist was not one she wanted to think about (he'd probably even do it just to spite her).

Nate ignored them, never looking away from her, and she was about to ask him what was wrong when he started speaking. "Obviously she's gorgeous, but anyone can see that so it doesn't count as one of the three. What you don't realize, if you don't know her personally, is that she's as beautiful inside as out. She works hard to protect the innocent, and to avenge the wronged. She's overcome hardship and not let it make her angry, or bitter, but rather uses it to help others. She's the bravest woman I know and she's not afraid of anything." He cleared his throat. "Is that three? I could keep going."

"Thank you, Nate," Foster said, smiling more warmly than either of them had ever seen. "That was well done. Very well done."

Parker couldn't look at him as she processed what he'd said. Did he really think those things about her? And she felt like a complete fraud because she _wasn't _brave, not about things like this.

He had no idea how terrified she was of him – or more accurately, what she felt for him.

"Parker, would you like to reciprocate?" Foster asked gently.

Parker spared a quick glance around the room. Eliot, Sophie, and Hardison appeared to be at various stages of surprise. Nate was still looking at her, and she couldn't read his expression.

"Okay," Parker shifted in her seat, staring intently at her hands, because she couldn't work up the courage to look at him while she spoke (see, she wasn't brave). "I don't think I can come up with three compliments about Nate. Well I could, but they wouldn't mean as much as...what he just said about me. What I mean to say is –" she sighed heavily. This was why she tried not to deal with emotions, if she could help it. "Don't get me wrong, over the course of my life, I've met some good people who've never let me down." She didn't mention that they were all in the room with her. "But they are few and far between…really, they are _far_ between." She stopped, unsure if she should go on.

"I think many would agree with you," Foster told her. "Which, when you think about it, doesn't that mean that those who are good to you should know what you think about them? Don't you think they _deserve _to know? That they've earned it?"

Parker hated to admit it, but for once Foster was right about something, and that's what made up her mind about going on. She took a deep breath. "I think Nate is perhaps the best man I've ever known. And that doesn't count for three things in my book. It's more like three million." She was met with silence. "Not that I ever told him that," she added quickly.

She glanced up – Foster appeared on the verge of applauding. Sophie and Eliot were surprised and Hardison – well she half expected him to pull out note cards and start another round of games. The other couples she didn't much care about, but a few of the women looked as if they were on the verge of crying. As if this process weren't bad enough, to have to do it in front of other people was downright unreasonable.

Nate, though, wasn't looking at her, he was staring at the floor, and she began to doubt if he'd heard her. And if he did, did he care? She'd probably made him uncomfortable. He probably had no idea how to respond to something like that. She stood and said she was going to get some fresh air, which was close enough to the truth. The second she stepped out of the room, with all those eyes unable to see her now, she relaxed somewhat.

She'd just leaned against the wall and tried to start breathing normally when she heard the door open and close again. She knew it was Nate, because it wouldn't have been anyone else.

"Parker…"

"Don't," she said quietly, resting her forehead against the wall.

"Don't what?" He asked.

"Don't feel like you have to…express your gratitude or…whatever else it is that you're thinking. Just accept my words for what they are and we'll forget about it and move on."

"I will not," he said, and he actually sounded angry at what she'd suggested.

She reluctantly turned to face him, but refused to pull away from the wall that was currently holding her up. "I shouldn't have said any of that, should I?"

In response he paced several feet away from her before turning to her again. "Why are you so afraid to _talk_ to me?"

"I'm not!" She said, seizing on the spark of anger. It was better than regret, uneasiness, or embarrassment, at least.

He stalked back to her until only inches separated them. "You _are_," he said firmly. From his tone, she would have thought he was angry, if she hadn't seen the way he looked at her. It definitely wasn't anger. It was more like resignation, and maybe the slightest hint of sadness.

"I can't do this," she said, nodding toward the room they'd left minutes before. It was the easy way out, wasn't it? To completely avoid everything else and pretend this was about their counseling sessions. She couldn't help it though – because Nate was right, she was afraid to talk to him. But in all fairness, she suspected he was afraid to talk to her, too. Especially about things that could change both of their lives.

He accepted her unspoken explanation, and she honestly didn't know if she was miserable or grateful. He held out his hand to her. "We're so close to the end, Parker. I know you can do this. You can do anything."

"Yeah," she said slowly, taking his hand. "I can do this." The caveat – that she didn't want to – remained unsaid.

XXXXXX

She would never again agree to stay behind a few minutes to talk to Foster alone.

"Is that what this is about?" Their therapist asked. "Losing his respect?"

Parker shut her eyes and tried to remember the decisions that had led her to this impossible place.

"No, that's not it," Foster said slowly, and with such gentleness that Parker wanted to scream at her, and cry in her arms, at the same time. "It's not losing his respect that you fear. It's losing him."

Her eyes shot open and she stared across the office, internally railing against the impossibility of the situation. How had this woman, who didn't know either of them before a month ago, suddenly figured out what Parker had been trying to keep from everyone – and mostly from herself?

"It's alright, you know," the older woman said softly. "You can tell him this. You shouldn't be afraid."

"What do you know about it?" Parker cried. "You sit there and watch dysfunctional people in dysfunctional relationships day in and day out, telling them what to do and what not to do to 'save' their relationships. Have you ever been in one?"

Dr. Foster leaned forward, elbows resting on her knees as she surveyed the agitated woman across from her. "I've been in plenty of relationships and yes, I've loved. And it takes a hell of a lot of work to be in a relationship, and furthermore, to stay sane in that relationship. And you know what some of my clients never figure out is that I can't fix everything. But I'll tell you something else that most of my clients never figure out: I've never met a couple who truly wanted to fix their relationship that couldn't. That's what it comes down to, Parker. What each person wants, and if they're willing to work for it."

Parker put her head in her hands, at a complete and utter loss. "What Nate and I have isn't _real _– don't you get that by now?"

"I've heard all your protests by now. The fake marriage, the mean judges, how you didn't want to be together then and you certainly don't want to be now. You want to know what I've never seen?"

She waited until Parker looked at her.

"I've never seen either of you walk out that door. And let me tell you something, no set of crazy circumstances in the world could make the two of you be here if both of you didn't – on some level – want to be."

"It was the judge's terms, that we had to come here or else –"

Dr. Foster interrupted her protests. "Or else you could have found another judge willing to do it, even if you had to wait a little bit longer. Parker, I'm not judging you or Nate. But you both certainly knew the terms when you came here, and you both definitely knew it wasn't some bizarre requirement of life that you undergo marriage counseling for a marriage you both say you didn't want. That's not to say that maybe you haven't been deluding yourself into thinking that was the case. So why don't you take a minute to think about it and then tell me, for real this time, what it is that you want."

Parker pressed her hands into her eyes and shook her head, partly in sadness, partly in acceptance. It was time to face the truth.

And for all the hard truths she'd come across in her life, hating them had certainly never made any of them go away.

"It doesn't matter what I want," she told the older woman. "Because if there's one thing I know above all else, it's that Nathan Ford never wanted to get married again. And if he did, of all the women in the world, I'd be the _last_ one he'd choose."

"Is that why, of all the women in the world, _you're_ the one he married?"

The statement gave her pause and she realized, then, that no matter how crazy their situation was, Foster was _right_. Parker swallowed. "We weren't in our right minds, and the fact is I know he'd never consider marrying me – in fact, he'd never consider being in a relationship with me."

"Oh really? Did he tell you that?"

"Trust me. I know."

"Parker, I think you need to at least talk to him about –"

"He's my family!" Parker burst out against her will. "How do you not understand that I can't risk losing him? It would mean losing everything. All of our friends! It's a risk I can't take. That I _won't _take."

Dr. Foster allowed her a moment to collect herself before continuing on in that equally maddening and soothing tone. "If he's your family as you say, then don't you think he'd want to know how you feel?"

Parker forced aside all emotions and pressed her lips together in a thin line of protest. "I don't know what you're talking about, Dr. Foster. There's nothing to tell." She stood, signaling she was done with the conversation.

"Don't think that by shutting yourself off completely you're guaranteeing you hold onto the people closest to you," Foster said, standing as well. "I'm telling you from experience, Parker. In the short run it may work, but in the long run it's the most effective means to drive people away."

"Good thing I'm not you, then," Parker told her bluntly.

She wasn't risking her entire existence on the suggestion of some counselor who thought she knew what was best for people she barely knew.

No matter if she liked the advice.

No matter if it made sense.

No matter if following through with it would make her happier.

She knew more about risks than Dr. Katherine Foster. And this was one she would never take.

Because even supposing the woman was right (and Parker was sure she'd never believe such a thing) she'd rather live forever with her current level of contentment than dare hope for more and lose everything in the process.

"Parker?" Nate asked from the doorway. He must have gotten tired of waiting for her outside.

"That's a lovely necklace you're wearing," Foster said quickly.

Parker couldn't move. The woman had _not _just said that.

The statement got Nate's attention, as it had been designed to do.

"Do you keep a charm on it or…" Foster trailed off.

Parker shot her a look she truly wished would kill. The woman knew very well what was on the chain she wore around her neck. And Nate didn't. Which was the problem. But there was no way out of this.

"It's…my wedding ring," she reluctantly admitted.

"Why don't you tell us why you keep your ring with you, Parker?" Foster asked, and Parker hated her more in that moment than anyone in her entire life, which was saying something if you knew the types of people she'd come across in three decades.

"I like it," she said simply, trying to sound as nonchalant as possible. "It's pretty. That's all."

It wasn't Foster that questioned that, but Nate. "You're Parker," Nate gave her an assessing glance. "You don't like anything unless it's expensive – or stolen. And that ring is definitely neither."

"I like it. That's all. I don't keep it for any particular reason," she lied again, meeting Nate's eyes. And she saw that he knew she was lying. Only he wasn't quite sure why.

Her gaze strayed to his hand. He didn't keep his wedding ring with him because he thought rationally. He knew it meant nothing. Parker knew it too, she didn't need someone to tell her that. But even that – even knowing that it had no significance to him – wasn't enough to get rid of her own ring. No matter what he thought or felt now, at the time, he had willingly given her that ring and sworn to stay with her forever.

Which meant that no matter how hard she tried, she couldn't just give a symbol like that away.

She knew why she kept her ring, but she didn't always know why she wore it. Sometimes she felt it pulling at her with a demand she could not name. Sometimes it weighed her down so much that she imagined if she jumped in the ocean, it would sink her. And other times…

She thought it might keep her from drowning.

That day, in Foster's office, he didn't ask her about the ring again. Maybe because he knew she'd never give him a straight answer. Or maybe because he already suspected what that answer would be.

XXXXXX

"Sadly, I must say this ends our tenth and final session," Foster told them. "You two have successfully completed my course."

Parker sighed with barely contained relief. The past few sessions, in particular, had made her feel extremely confined. All she wanted to do was leave the woman's office and never return.

"If I may, though, before you leave?" Foster said, a faint hint of pleading in her voice.

Parker was halfway out the door but Nate stopped her. "Of course, Doctor," he said. Why did he always have to follow social conventions of politeness?

"I've seen many couples in my twenty years of family counseling," Foster said, standing up and moving behind her desk. "Generally I can tell which ones have a chance of lasting and which ones are destined for divorce. In the latter cases I always hope I'm wrong, but most of the time, my instincts are right. I'm going to sign these papers for you, and you're free to legally obtain a divorce, however, I have to let you know that what I see when I look at both of you is a marriage that can be saved. I sincerely hope that you reconsider your decision to end your marriage. If you ever feel the need to seek further counseling, either as a couple or individually," (this last directed at Parker, who bristled at the insinuation), "my door is always open."

Parker didn't want to hear any more, but Nate still prevented her from leaving. "We appreciate what you've done for us, Dr. Foster," Nate told her.

"It was my pleasure," Katherine Foster told them, coming over to shake each of their hands. Nate nodded and left. Parker was about to follow when the psychiatrist stopped her. "I know you love each other very much," she said. "I hope that you both tell each other that before it's too late to do anything about it."

Parker shifted uncomfortably. Who exactly did this woman think she was? "You don't know what you think you know."

Dr. Foster smiled slightly, and it was tinged with sadness. "I did enjoy meeting with you and your husband, Parker. I hope that one of these days you both _really _look at each other, because I think you'd be surprised at what you saw."

Parker left without another word.

**XXXXXX**

One more chapter, posted within a few days, just need to finish editing. Thanks for reading and thanks to all reviewers!


	10. Chapter 10

**Disclaimer: **See chapter 1.

**Author's Note: **Thanks to all who have enjoyed this story. To all readers, I love you. To reviewers, the ending is dedicated to you.

**XXXXXX**

Since they had 'passed' Dr. Katherine Foster's counseling sessions with flying colors (and that still shocked both of them), it didn't take long to finally get their divorce papers. As soon as they were completed and filed with the court, their marriage would be dissolved.

"That was easy," Nate said as they arrived back at the apartment. "If by 'easy' you mean it took us seven months and hours of convincing strangers to give us these papers."

"The judge finally agreed to the divorce, hmm?" Sophie asked.

"We'll be free of each other soon," Parker said, and cursed that she didn't sound as exuberantly happy as she was supposed to.

"Congratulations?" Sophie half stated, half asked. She shot a questioning look at Nate who shrugged.

Sensing perhaps that they needed some time alone, Sophie excused herself, joining Eliot and Hardison in the living room. Parker sat down at the table and skimmed over the divorce papers. She picked up a pen, fully intending to sign where indicated, but for some reason, all she ended up doing was tapping it thoughtfully on the table.

Nate sat down across from her. "We finally made it."

"Yeah, we did," she said. She slowly reached up and unfastened her necklace, sliding the ring off. It embarrassed her to do it in front of Nate, and she still couldn't adequately explain why she'd taken to wearing it around her neck, but that didn't matter now. She slid it across the table toward him. "Here, you deserve this back."

He watched her silently for a few moments, then glanced at the ring. Finally he reached over and slid it back to her. "I bought it for you. It's yours."

"Really?" She asked, then cleared her throat, trying to free her voice of emotion. "I mean, thanks." She picked it up and held it tightly in her hand.

She started scanning the documents again, and her hesitation must have emboldened him into saying something he'd suspected for months.

"When were you going to tell me?"

Her eyes snapped up to meet his. "What?"

"Were you _ever _going to tell me?" He asked, watching as the papers fell from her hands and back to the table. "You weren't, were you?"

"Tell you what?" She asked slowly.

"You can't do it, Parker. Why?"

She thought about denying it. Outright lying to him. Only she found that she simply didn't have it in her anymore. What was the point in continuing to lie, when it seemed he already knew the truth? "You're right," she said quietly, dropping the pen back on the table.

He clasped his hands, pressing them to his mouth. "Tell me why."

She leaned back in her chair and thought for a long moment. She was surprised at his calm. "You know by now how I feel about…well, feelings. What was I supposed to do? Come out and tell you – I mean, risk everything for…" She rubbed her eyes and shook her head. Even now, it was still incredibly hard to say.

He tried another tactic. "What do you remember from that night?"

"Not much, just small things from here and there. I sometimes wonder if what I 'remember' aren't just dreams of how I think the night went. I can't be sure."

He seemed lost in his own memories. "It's about the same for me. Neither of us were sober, and we can blame that, but would it be completely fair?"

She didn't know what to make of that. "What do you mean?"

He picked up the pen she had been unable to use, and for a heart-stopping moment she thought he was going to sign the divorce papers. That pretty much told her everything, didn't it? Except all he did was roll it back and forth in his hands. "What I'm saying is, did we really get married for no reason? Do you remember earlier in the night?"

Actually, she did remember some things. "Yeah, I was gambling a lot. Hardison kept coming to ask me for money, and…" Things were becoming clearer as she talked about them. "Every time he came over he had a drink with him to try and bribe me. It worked, too. I'm going to kill him!" She glanced over to the living room where he was pretending not to eavesdrop on their conversation.

Nate didn't seem too concerned with him. "You kept finding me, no matter what game I was playing. Didn't you ever find it strange that you kept seeking me out that night, and not, say, Eliot? Or Hardison? Or a random stranger?"

Actually, she had, but figured the alcohol had been mostly to blame. "I didn't think about it," she lied.

"What I'm trying to get at," he told her carefully, "is that if you think I never cared for you, you'd be wrong." He decided it was time to face reality – even if that reality involved her hating him forever. "I took advantage of you. I know you hate me for that."

She nearly leapt out of her chair at those words, because they didn't make any sense. "What are you talking about? I'm the one who took advantage of _you_! I know you have a drinking problem, yet somehow I kept drinking with you, and married you, and – how do you have any respect left for me at all?"

He certainly hadn't been expecting that. "What?"

"I'm sorry, Nate," she said helplessly. "I understand if you hate me. If I were you, I'd hate me, too."

"Are you _kidding _me?" He stood up and stared down at her. She recognized the anger, but didn't know why he felt it.

"Look what I did!" She exclaimed, standing so she could meet him on even ground, despite how scared she was. "I agreed to marry you. I should have known better. I should have stopped us."

"No – no." He seemed to be in a state of disbelief. "I don't believe this. Are you telling me we've both been thinking we were to blame for that night?"

They'd attracted the attention of their friends, but he couldn't bring himself to care. Not when he had to fix this.

"How can you forgive me?" She asked. "When I can't even forgive myself?"

"No, Parker." He stepped closer to her and waited until she looked at him. "This wasn't your fault. Believe that. Neither of us were thinking straight that night, and I see that now. But I still think there was a reason for it."

She really couldn't believe that he wouldn't blame her for this. She didn't deserve that kind of trust. "What do you mean, a reason?"

"Parker…" he sighed, Foster's words running through his mind no matter how much he tried to banish them. "If we're being entirely honest, I have to admit that I have a…weakness for you."

Was that a good thing? She had no idea. "A what?"

"We made a pretty good married couple, didn't we?" He knew he sounded desperate, but at the moment he _was _desperate. If he couldn't get her to understand…if she didn't _believe _him… He didn't want to think about it. The truth was, now that he knew what it was like to be married to her, he didn't know how he could willingly let her go. "I mean, we got along pretty well, we rarely fought…we genuinely cared about each other unlike those couples we saw every day in Foster's waiting room."

"But we didn't have a real marriage," she reminded him defensively. What was he trying to do to her?

Nate put his hands on either side of her face and made sure she was looking at him – really looking at him, before he spoke. "Didn't we?"

"What do you mean?" She whispered.

"I know you don't remember all of that night, Parker. Lots of things are hazy for me, too, but I remember some things. I remember, at one point, how much I wanted to get married. To _you_."

She leaned back, but he didn't let go of her. She had to believe he was serious, because why would he be lying about it? "What do you want me to say?"

"Why have you been wearing that ring around your neck?" He challenged.

"I don't…" she automatically reached up, forgetting she had taken off the necklace mere minutes before. She looked down at the hand which was still clutching the ring he'd refused to take from her. "I don't know," she insisted.

He smiled at her. "Tell me that you don't expect me to believe that." When she didn't answer he reached out and slowly took the ring from her hand. She wanted to protest but the words died in her throat. "I think you've been struggling with yourself for a long time now about where this belongs," he said, taking her left hand and slipping it on. And that simply wasn't _possible_. Things like that didn't _happen_ to people like her.

"Nate –" She stared at the ring he'd placed on her finger, because she was terrified.

"Parker, I can't fully explain that night to you. However, I can say that in the months since, I haven't wanted to be with anyone else except you. The only thing that matters now is if you feel the same way."

Instead of answering him directly, she started talking almost as if she hadn't heard what he'd said. "Dr. Foster was always asking me why I kept this ring and I could never give her an answer. Because I really had no idea. And then, not long ago, I realized – it's because when we got married you became my only family. I mean, sure I knew I had this whole team as my friends, but it's been so long since I had any sort of real family. And suddenly I had a husband and it was amazing, that someone had wanted to marry me. That _you _had wanted to marry me! And getting rid of the ring, that was like throwing everything away and I just couldn't do it because…I cared about you too much."

She glanced up to see Nate watching her. "I didn't want to," she added, "care about you, that is, because it was too risky and I stood to lose so much, but I couldn't help it." She gently touched the ring that was now on her finger for the first time – that she could remember clearly. "I'm sorry."

"Why are you apologizing to me?" He asked.

"Because we aren't supposed to be together," she said helplessly. "You deserve more than me. Look at the five of us – of everyone we are the least likely to be together of any of us!"

"It's me who's not deserving," he whispered, kissing her lightly. "And who cares what anyone else thinks? That has nothing to do with what we feel."

"Does this mean that…you don't want to get divorced?" She whispered, hope working its way into her voice.

"I can't divorce you," he confirmed, taking her hand in his and rubbing his thumb over her wedding ring. For some reason he couldn't look away.

"Good," she tried valiantly to keep her voice steady. "Nate…don't you think it's kind of strange that we're starting our relationship by being married?"

"It is," he agreed, "but what does that matter?" He pulled her closer and kissed her, and she momentarily forgot everything, as vague memories of the past came back to her. It reminded her of the night they'd gotten married, which was somewhat of a shock. She still remembered little from that night, yet everything about Nate – the way he felt, and the way he held her, and the way he kissed her – seemed so familiar. The past and present blurred together into a heady feeling of rightness that would have terrified her if – well, if it hadn't been Nate.

With him she felt…_happy_. It was a simple way to put it, but it was the only word that could accurately describe it.

Eliot cleared his throat and they both reluctantly turned to look at him. He was leaning over the back of the couch, watching them with interest. "Does this mean you're not getting divorced?"

"You're very astute," Nate told him, as Parker nodded.

"Then what have the last seven months been for?" Eliot complained. "Are you telling me I had to put up with all that for nothing? I pretended to be married and went to couple's therapy! I did trust exercises! Hardison pushed me down a flight of stairs!"

"It wasn't _all _for nothing," Parker protested, sharing a look with Nate, and she knew what they were both thinking – that the past few months had actually been instrumental in getting them to admit their feelings.

"This is fantastic!" Sophie cried as she came into the kitchen. "Do you know what this means? We can double date all the time now!"

"Uh, on second thought, it's not too late to sign these." Parker made a wild grab for the divorce papers as Sophie pulled her toward the living room.

"Oh sure," Hardison griped, "the four of you go on your merry way and do couple things and where am I? Left at home to watch television, the forgotten fifth wheel. Thanks a lot."

"Hey, nothing's stopping you from finding someone," Eliot told him. "Except that, you know, you're _you_."

"Wow, _wow_. Nate did you hear that? Are you going to let him get away with that kind of disrespect?"

"And nothing's changed," Nate remarked, though he was secretly glad. He'd have been worried if it had.

"You should be happy, Hardison," Eliot added. "With so much free time on your hands, you can write another crazy book."

"Hey!" He protested, then seemed to think about it. "You do have a point…"

Sophie was telling Parker about how they had to redecorate Nate's apartment, while Parker tried to argue, but couldn't get a word in edgewise. "I've been wanting to do this for over a year now, but Nate wouldn't let me. I'm guessing you don't have much experience with interior decorating – I'll take the lead on this." She started writing things down they 'needed' to buy.

Parker gave up on trying to talk sense into Sophie, and Hardison caught her eye. "Are you taking notes?"

He'd apparently decided to take Eliot's advice and was jotting things down in a notebook. "You bet I am, this is going into my next book. Dr. Raymond Carrell saves yet another marriage. People are going to love this story, though I may have to change some details to make it more realistic."

"Unbelievable," she muttered.

"You're a fan of pastels, right Parker?" Sophie asked.

"Nate," Parker pleaded, "please tell Sophie that I do not need to go shopping with her. I don't care how bad your taste is, I much prefer it to _shopping_!"

At times like these he was actually grateful he lived at their headquarters, because it gave him a certain authority. "Everyone, get out," he ordered.

"No problem, I have to get started writing this anyways," Hardison said. Eliot reassured Sophie they'd force Parker to go shopping later, but she still wasn't happy.

"It's not just your place that needs a makeover, Nate. I mean, no offense Parker, but your wardrobe is a bit lacking."

"Out!" Nate said impatiently, holding the door open, as they took their time.

"This is a good opportunity," Sophie insisted, pulling Parker with her out of the apartment, "we can buy some new clothes that will really impress –"

"Parker, what are you doing?" Nate asked, as he leaned against his front door.

Parker turned to him, unhappily. "It's kind of cold that you'd kick me out when –"

"I didn't mean you," he said, and though his voice was exasperated, his eyes held nothing but amusement and warmth as he took her arm and pulled her back into the apartment.

"But –" Sophie protested.

"Let her go," Eliot said calmly.

They could hear Sophie complaining about how it wasn't fair to thwart such a promising shopping trip as the two of them finally left. Parker leaned back against the door, shutting them out, and immensely relieved she'd gotten out of an unwanted expedition.

"If you keep doing things like that," Parker said, slowly grinning, "then we are going to have a very long marriage, indeed."

"I will be doing things like that for as long as you want me to," he told her, stepping closer until she was effectively pinned against the door.

"Trust me when I say I'll be happy if you do that forever," she breathed against his lips.

To her immense disappointment, he didn't take the bait and instead leaned back a few inches. "You know, Parker," he sighed, "there's a saying – after you get married, the thrill is gone."

She narrowed her eyes, because two could play at that game. "I've heard that, as well. Want to go watch some TV? Maybe _Meet the_ –"

He didn't let her finish. "Do you want to test that saying?"

She couldn't help smiling. "Maybe."

"Maybe?"

"Okay, definitely," she conceded.

To her surprise, he didn't make another smart comment, only stared at her for a moment. As she was about to get worried, he spoke, running a finger down the side of her face. "I'm in love with you, you know."

She was surprised at how free she felt to return the gesture, as she touched the side of his face. "I'd hoped, but, no…I didn't really know."

He kissed her again, trying to convey exactly how he felt about her, and from the way she kissed him back, he knew she understood, and reciprocated. "I'm glad you know now," he told her when they broke apart.

"Well, you know I love you, too. I think our thrill is just beginning," she told him, and she wasted no time in proving it to him.

XXXXXX

Hardison's book, for some inexplicable reason, became a bestseller – and he didn't let them forget it, constantly bringing it up and throwing around ideas for his second one (and occasionally lamenting about how the final version of the book didn't include his picture, on Nate's advice).

It didn't help that Sophie was constantly quoting passages from it and saying how remarkable it was that Hardison was so insightful about relationships. Parker actually thought Eliot might break up with her because of it, until he went and proposed instead. She was happy for them, but not quite as happy at the prospect of helping to plan a wedding.

Sophie also dragged them on far too many double dates to count, but after awhile Parker found that she didn't mind as much as she thought she would, because Nate was there with her, which was all that really mattered. For some reason, she could get through even the most interminable of evenings, if he was sitting next to her.

It scared her, sometimes, that it had taken getting married to find the person she truly loved. It was completely backwards, and she would be the first to admit that it didn't make any sense. She didn't know why it had worked out – because it shouldn't have. The odds were impossible. And deep down, she still thought she didn't really deserve this kind of happiness, or Nate. But he was slowly changing that (even if he didn't know it).

Though she may never be able to explain why, that didn't mean that she wasn't eternally grateful.

One day, she gave in to her own curiosity and picked up Hardison's book – it was better than she'd expected. To be sure, 97% of it was completely insane, but it was still interesting.

"What's that you're reading?" Hardison asked, as if he didn't recognize his own book cover.

"I'm not just reading," she said. "This is an experience."

"That's right," he said smugly, "I knew you'd give in – what's that you're doing?"

She held up a pink highlighter. "I'm highlighting all the statistics I'm sure you made up, people I think are fake, and otherwise crazy or impossible statements."

His smile disappeared as he took the book from her. "This whole page is pink," he flipped through a few more pages, "and the next ten!"

"Hmm, yeah, chapter 12 is not your finest hour."

"But, that's – how do you not appreciate –" he sputtered, then turned to Nate, impossibly thinking he might lend support. "Nate, would you learn to control your wife?"

"Would you learn to write better?" Nate shot back. Parker retrieved the book from Hardison, and grinned at Nate over the top of it, while he winked at her.

"I don't like this," Hardison announced, looking between the two of them. "This whole being on the same side thing."

"Yet you still come over all the time for no reason," Nate told him.

Hardison ignored him, pulling out a stack of notebooks and announcing he had work to do. Nate gave up and focused on his computer screen again. "Why am I looking through all these flower arrangements, Parker?"

"Because you love me?" she guessed.

"Oh right," he said. "Next time, tell Sophie 'no,' so that I don't get stuck doing all the things you're supposed to do."

About ten minutes later, the silence was broken as Parker gasped and threw the book in the air. "Oh my god," she said, stricken, as it fell to the floor at her feet.

Hardison watched her with concern and Nate looked alarmed. "Are you alright?"

"No, I am not alright," she said, her voice shaking slightly. "I just read a whole chapter without highlighting. Do you know what this means?"

Nate relaxed. "Don't scare me like that, Parker."

"I was _entertained_!" She said, still obviously distressed. "This is awful."

"I knew you were a fan," Hardison cheered.

"I'm re-reading that chapter," she swore, "and finding the flaws." She picked up the book from the floor and took a deep breath, steeling herself.

"Any quotes, Parker?" Hardison asked.

"Huh?" She looked up from where she'd been shaking the highlighter. It was almost out of ink and she'd only gotten it a few days ago.

"For my next book," he clarified.

"Um…follow your heart?" She suggested.

"That's so cheesy," he told her. "I love it! My readers will eat that up."

"You're only encouraging him," Nate told her.

In retaliation, she quickly grabbed one of Hardison's notebooks, ripped out a page, and threw it across the room at him. "I don't care. I'm content."

"That could have been important," Hardison complained, getting up to retrieve it, as Nate came to sit next to her.

"So am I," he said, as he kissed her.

"I'm not content," Hardison said, smoothing out the crumpled paper. "Hours of hard work completely disregarded like that." Nate and Parker weren't listening to him, though, as usual. "Just wait until book two," he muttered, "then you won't be dismissing me so easily."

"Hardison?" Nate said, waiting until the other man gave him his full attention. "Go find something else to do."

Hardison unhappily gathered his notebooks and stood. "Have you noticed you're much less hospitable since you've gotten married?"

"Bye Hardison," Parker said brightly. "Maybe you can go help Sophie pick out gifts for her wedding registry."

"Just you wait, book two!" He yelled before storming out, making sure to slam the door behind him.

"Where were we?" Nate asked.

"Book two?" She questioned, trying valiantly not to laugh. "Poor Hardison, he has no idea how I'm going to threaten him into showing us in a positive light."

"I knew there was a reason why I loved you," Nate said teasingly.

"Many reasons," she corrected.

"Yes, many," he agreed, thinking that if he merely told his wife the entire list of reasons why he loved her, she wouldn't believe it. Which meant he'd have to spend his life showing her. He didn't mind in the least.

As it turned out, Hardison's second book not only was greatly complimentary toward them, but also dedicated to them. And though he took full credit for the 'continuing success of their marriage,' Parker didn't care. She and Nate knew the truth, and they were happy, and that was all that mattered.

Though it certainly didn't hurt that for book three, Hardison decided Eliot and Sophie were a much more interesting topic.

**XXXXXX**

The end! This story was, from the beginning, my favorite of all that I've written. To those who stuck with it, I'm so very appreciative, and hope you enjoyed the ending.

As a final note to reviewers, I LOVE you more than you know. I say it all the time, but it's true enough to merit mentioning again and again. Thank you.


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